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Uncle  Jack's  Executors. 


BY 

ANNETTE  LUCILLE  NOBLE. 


NEW  YORK 
G.    P.    PUTNAM'S    SONS 

27  AND  29  WEST  230  STREET 
1882 


COPYRIGHT,  1880, 
BY  G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS. 


PREFACE. 


THERE  are  no  murders  in  this  book,  no  broken  hearts, 
not  even  one  villain.  It  will  keep  no  one  awake  o'  nights. 
Lest  any  lover  of  what  Carlyle  calls  "astonishing  convul- 
sionary  literature  "  should,  after  reading  it,  feel  defrauded 
of  what  he  considers  a  due  amount  of  excitement  in  fiction, 
let  it  be  known  at  first  that  it  is  a  story  of  another  sort.  Of 
what  sort  the  reader  can  see  for  himself. 


2061976 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

PAGE 

WHAT  SHALL  WE  HAVE  FOR  DINNER  ?  i 


CHAPTER   II. 
OF  ONE  GONE .7 

CHAPTER    III. 
A  FAMILY  CONSULTATION 13 

CHAPTER   IV. 
HESTER  AND  THE  WIDOW  RUGGLES 32 

CHAPTER   V. 
WHICH  INTRODUCES  A  NEW-ENGLAND  PERSON        .  53 

CHAPTER   VI. 
GRANTY  TAKES  HER  "  TURN  " 64 


vi  CONTENTS. 

i 

CHAPTER  VII. 

PAGE 

AUNT  PEPPERFIELD'S  NIECES 76 

CHAPTER   VIII. 
THE  LETTER  AUNT  HULDAH  DID  NOT  GET      ....      91 

CHAPTER   IX. 
JACK  MAKES  A  FRIEND 99 

CHAPTER   X. 
THE  EDITOR  OF  "THE  PHCENIX" 114 

CHAPTER  XI. 
DOROTHY  AND  THE  PHOTOGRAPHS 127 

CHAPTER   XII. 
"ONE  OF  MARION'S  SORT" 141 

CHAPTER   XIII. 
PART  OF  A  LETTER  FROM  MARION  TO  HESTER       .       .       .153 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
AN  OCTOBER  DAY 161 

CHAPTER   XV. 
WHAT  CAME  OF  MARION'S  RIDE  .    168 


CONTENTS.  vii 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

PAGE 

GOOD  ADVICE  NOT  TAKEN 182 

CHAPTER   XVII. 
A  LETTER  FROM  HESTER 198 

CHAPTER   XVIII. 
WHOSE  ROSE  WAS  IT? 205 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
A  WATCH  IN  THE  NIGHT 215 

CHAPTER   XX. 
"  WHAT  is  DECREED  MUST  BE,  AND  BE  THIS  so  "    .       .       .    232 

CHAPTER   XXI. 
CROSS-PURPOSES 248 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
Two  YEARS  LATER.    DOROTHY  TO  HESTER     .       .       .       .277 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
GRANTY  TO  AUNT  PEPPERFIELD 283 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 
THE  LAST  OF  HESTER  PRESCOTT 287 


UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

What  shall  we  have  for  Dinner  ? 

THERE  is  always  something  pathetic  about  an 
empty  pocket-book ;  but  it  was  with  a  sort  of 
aggrieved  astonishment  that  Dorothy  Prescott  re- 
garded hers.  It  was  a  long,  flat,  worn  one,  once  a 
man's  evidently ;  but  the  man  had  left  no  money  in 
it,  nothing  but  a  sharp  lancet  with  a  shell  sheath,  in 
one  side-pocket.  It  was  there  when  Dorothy  took 
the  book  for  hers ;  and  she  would  rather  have  the 
memories  that  ugly  little  instrument  called  up  than 
the  fattest  pocket-book,  if  she  had  to  choose  :  how- 
ever, on  this  day,  she  was  looking,  with  disgust  and 
surprise,  from  it  to  a  man  just  then  passing  out  of 
the  gate. 

"Not  a  cent  that  I  know  of  at  hand  to  buy  the 
dinner!  and  I  calculated  that  there  was  enough  to 


2  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

last  until  Wednesday,"  she  ejaculated.  Then  from 
the  front  door  she  ran  up  stairs,  and  turned  the  knob 
of  the  first  door  on  the  landing. 

"  Go  away  !  "  said  another  feminine  voice.  "  I  can't 
open  it.  Mrs.  Hopkins  is  hanging  on  it !  " 

"Well,  take  her  off:  I  must  come  in,"  said  Dor- 
othy. 

There  was  a  moment's  delay,  and  she  was  ad- 
mitted into  a  chamber  where  her  sister  Hester  was 
painting  photographs.  The  lady  who  hung  on  the 
door  was  only  being  executed  in  a  painless  and  artis- 
tic way. 

"  It  has  come  to  that !  "  said  Dorothy  vigorously, 
sliding  into  a  Boston  rocking-chair. 

"  What  has  ?  " 

"  Don't  you  remember  the  old  woman  in  the  storm 
at  sea  ?  When  the  captain  told  her  they  must  trust 
in  the  Lord,  she  said,  '  What,  has  it  come  to  that ! ' 
Well,  now,  it  has  with  us,  and  things  look  black  and 
blue.  There  is  nothing  good  in  the  house  for  din- 
ner. There  was  money  enough  for  a  week  or  more, 
when  an  old  chap  arrived,  and  asked  if  we  had  any 
children,  and  how  old  they  were,  and,  lo  and  behold, 
it  was  a  school-tax  he  was  after! " 

"  I  would  not  have  paid  it.  We  do  not  send  Jack 
to  school,  and  we  are  too  old  to  go  ourselves,"  said 
Hester. 


WHA  T  SHALL    WE  HA  VE  FOR  DINNER  ?  3 

"They  sell  people's  cows  when  they  refuse,"  said 
Dorothy  meditatively ;  "  but  we  haven't  any." 

"Then,  by  paying,"  returned  her  sister,  rubbing 
drying-oil  into  Mrs.  Hopkins's  cheeks,  "it  may  be 
you  have  prevented  our  getting  rid  of  Old  Mortality. 
That  horse  will  eat  us  into  the  poor-house.  They 
might  have  levied  on  him,  and  I  would  have  thanked 
them." 

Dorothy's  gaze  wandered  back  to  the  pocket-book". 
Hester  muttered,  "  Why  could  not  the  woman  have 
had  a  proper  nose? — such  a  lump  as  this;"  and,  dry- 
ing off  the  oil,  she  laid  on  a  delicate  mixture  of  red, 
white,  and  yellow,  as  the  basis  of  Mrs.  Hopkins's 
complexion. 

"  Tell  me  where  your  dinner  is  coming  from  to- 
day, not  to  speak  of  to-morrow,"  persisted  Dorothy. 
"Granty  wants  chops.  She  remarked,  moreover, 
quite  pointedly,  '  that  your  uncle  was  always  a  liberal 
provider.' " 

The  artist  stopped  painting,  her  palette  on  her 
thumb,  her  clear  gray  eyes  reflectively  turned  toward 
the  bit  of  sky  seen  through  the.  window.  She  spoke 
at  last,  but  not  poetically :  "  Do  you  remember  the 
great  platters  of  meat  he  used  to  order  for  breakfast, 
—  big  pieces  always  thrown  to  dogs  and  cats,  — 
roasts  and  poultry  always  for  dinners,  and  cold  meat 
for  supper  ?  There  must  have  been  waste  :  taking  it 


4  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

along  with  the  bills  he  never  collected,  it  is  no  won- 
der he  did  not  leave  us  rich." 

"  Well,  I  am  glad,  anyway,  that  every  thing  I  have 
ever  known  has  been  on  a  generous  scale,  whatever 
comes  now.  We  had  journeys  and  parties,  plenty  to 
give  away  :  no  lack  anywhere  while  it  lasted.  Think 
of  old  Mr.  Miles,  who  choked  the  parlor  gas-burners 
with  fine  wire,  and  made  the  family  drink  dried  pease 
for  coffee,  that  he  might  leave  a  million.  But  what 
about  the  platter  to-day  and  to-morrow  ? "  she  per- 
sisted. 

"To-morrow  and  to-morrow,"  quoted  Hester,  dab- 
dabbing  at  the  picture  tacked  on  the  door.  It  was 
in  a  distressing  second  stage  of  creation,  every  fea- 
ture of  a  different  hue,  and  she  had  no  care  for  much 
beyond  it  just  then. 

Dorothy,  as  she  sat  waiting,  was  a  shapely,  com- 
fortable-looking "girl."  We  do  not  mean  a  young 
girl,  and  we  do  not  mean  a  very  old  girl,  but  just  the 
nice  medium.  She  had  good,  white  teeth,  plenty  of 
brown  hair,  shrewd  eyes,  and  a  jovial  voice.  Her 
sister  was  a  trifle  younger,  taller,  more  colorless,  her 
face  suggesting  a  cameo-cut  Diana  in  the  sunlight. 
This  dull  day,  with  a  drab  painting-dress  on,  she  was 
plain.  When  she  went  to  tea-parties,  with  lace 
around  her  neck,  and  flowers  in  her  hair,  people 


WHA  T  SHALL    WE  HA  VE  FOR  DINNER  ?  5 

asked  why  she  was  not  handsome,  if  they  failed  to 
see  that  she  was  something  finer. 

"  I  do  not  feel  poor-folksy,"  said  Dorothy  as  she 
rocked.  "  Do  you  ? " 

"  No  !  "  returned  Hester,  —  a  fierce  no.  "  What  in 
the  world  should  we  feel  '  poor-folksy '  for  ?  Do  we 
owe  anybody  a  cent  ? " 

"  Of  course  not." 

"  Poor-folksy !  Why,  there  is  our  family  coat  of 
arms  right  over  your  head,  fly-specked  with  antiquity, 
a  lion  on  it,  —  a  lion  courant,  or  rampant,  or"  — 

"Flippant,"  put  in  Dorothy,  and  went  on  :  "Never- 
theless things  are  coming  to  a  climax.  I  will  let  you 
alone  now ;  but  we  must  decide  upon  something  to- 
day." 

"  Yes,"  said  Hester,  lazily  studying  the  shadow 
under  Mrs.  Hopkins's  nostrils,  —  "yes.  Let  us  have 
lobster-salad  for  dinner." 

"  Humph ! " 

"Well,  some  maccaroni." 

"  It  takes  a  pound  of  cheese." 

"  So  it  should,  to  be  good.  Well,  do  go  away,  and 
let  me  alone  !  There  is  a  five-dollar  bill  in  my  desk, 
take  that,  and  to-night  we  will  talk.  It  may  be  that 
Marion  will  have  some  new  ideas." 

Dorothy  watched  her  squeeze  carmine  out  of  a 
silvery  tube,  then  took  the  money,  and  put  it  in  the 


6  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

worn  book.  When  she  was  quite  out  in  the  hall, 
Hester  called, ."  Dorothy  ?  " 

"Well?" 

"  Let  us  buy  a  cow  ! " 

"  Humph  !  "  was  again  the  only  response  ;  but  she 
heard  Hester  add  in  a  sprightly  tone,  "  Yes,  that  is  a 
bright  idea.  We  will  buy  a  cow." 


CHAPTER  II. 

Of  One  Gone. 

THAT  empty  pocket-book,  that  Dorothy  held  in 
her  hand,  began  its  career  long  years  before. 
Its  hiding-place  was  in  a  vest-pocket  of  the  old 
doctor's,  Dorothy's  uncle  Prescott.  If  it  had  been 
the  sort  of  a  book  one  could  read,  it  would  have 
revealed  all  the  ins  and  outs  of  the  man's  life,  —  the 
man  whose  heart-beats  kept  its  leather  warm  ;  the 
man  who  for  nearly  fifty  years  drove  over  the  coun- 
try roads,  or  walked  the  shaded  old  village  streets. 
It  could  have  told  you,  furthermore,  about  the  people 
in  those  homes,  —  strange  stories  of  old  men  and 
women  whose  bygone  lives  the  world  had  thought 
commonplace ;  recent  confidences,  too,  whispered  to 
the  old  doctor  by  maidens  who  were  not  yet  over 
blushing  or  paling  at  these  their  own  romances. 
But  the  pocket-book  could  not  be  read,  which  may 
have  been  a  good  thing  after  all. 

Just  in  the  centre  of  Meriton  stood  a  sunny,  wide- 
awake house,  known  to  everybody  as  the  "Doctor's." 

7 


8  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

The  big  gilt  pestle  and  mortar,  once  a  sign  by  the 
front-gate,  had  been,  long  before  the  date  of  our 
story,  taken  down,  and  the  pole  wreathed  with  vines. 
The  house  was  yellow,  with  green  blinds  :  it  had 
grotesque  wings,  and  an  erratic  air  of  doing  what  it 
liked  architecturally.  There  were  two  towers,  draped 
with  woodbine,  where  the  birds  had  congregated  for 
years.  Behind  the  house  were  grape-arbors,  a  let- 
tuce-bed, much  grass,  sunflowers,  asters,  marigolds, 
and  blossoming  shrubs.  In  front  were  a  score  of 
fine  old  apple-trees.  The  doctor  would  no  more  have 
cut  them  down  in  deference  to  lawn  requirements 
than  he  would  have  sent  his  sturdy  farmer  patients 
into  his  kitchen  when  they  appeared  in  his  parlor. 
The  inmates  of  the  house  were  the  doctor's  oldest 
sister  —  the  nominal  head  of  the  house,  a  little  lady 
of  seventy  —  and  his  nieces,  with  a  nephew.  If  one 
were  forced  to  describe  the  first-mentioned  in  one 
word,  that  word  must  be  the  compound  sacred  to 
genius,  myriad-minded.  To  know  her  was  to  live 
with  her  :  to  live  with  her  was  bewilderment.  The 
three  girls  were  the  children  of  another  sister  of  the 
doctor's ;  and  next  in  the  scale  was  the  child  of  a 
dead  sister  of  the  girls.  He  was  a  boy  of  eight  years, 
left  to  be  brought  up  by  the  united  efforts  of  the 
three  aunts,  one  great-aunt,  and  a  great-uncle ;  and 
so  he  was  reared  in  an  original,  spasmodic,  but  per- 


OF  ONE   GONE.  9 

fectly  well-meant  manner.  These  were  the  actual 
members -of  this  family  to  which  you  have  been  so 
abruptly  introduced.  One  year  before,  uncle  Jack 
had  been  there,  and  then  had  the  household  seemed 
complete.  Some  men  are  sent  into  the  world  to  be 
big  brothers  to  all  other  people ;  and  such  men 
ought  to  be  doctors.  This  man  was  skilled  in  medi- 
cine and  surgery ;  but  his  uproarious  laugh  did  for 
his  patients  as  much  good  as  his  powders.  The  way 
he  tossed  their  babies,  and  enjoyed  their  doughnuts  ; 
the  beaming,  old  face,  and  the  tender,  great  hands, 
he  brought  into  sick-chambers  ;  the  advice  about 
that  daughter,  and  the  patience  he  recommended 
toward  that  wild  son,  —  why,  it  all  went  along  with 
the  genuine  man  ;  and  so  love  and  warmth  and  wel- 
come almost  made  palatable  his  potions,  and  painless 
his  surgery. 

When  he  came  home,  the  girls  had  ready,  if  it  were 
winter,  a  roaring  fire  in  his  office,  a  generous  table 
to  cheer  him  ;  and,  before  he  had  fairly  thawed  the 
ice  off  his  beard,  they  were  filling  his  ears  with  their 
fun,  their  sense  or  nonsense.  It  was  a  story  of  the 
sewing-society  last  night,  or  the  tableaux  for  next 
week,  or  perhaps  a  new  novel,  at  which  he  would 
"  pooh-pooh "  scornfully.  Did  they  not  twit  him 
then  of  the  time  he  sat  up  until  two  in  the  morning 
to  read  one  they  left  as  a  trap  ?  All  this  went  on  for 


10  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

years  and  years.  The  little  girls,  who  had  squeezed 
behind  his  back  and  between  his  legs  to  get  rides  in 
his  gig,  crept  into  womanhood,  and  never  thought 
but  that  the  old  gig  they  had  outgrown  would  roll  to 
and  from  the  door  a  quarter  of  a  century  longer. 
But  one  day  uncle  Jack  said  he  was.  tired,  and  laid 
himself  down.  It  almost  seemed  as  if  he  had 
planned  to  take  one  long,  sweet  holiday  :  holy-days 
they  were  to  the  girls  a  little  later.  Soon  the 
people  he  did  not  go  to  see  began  to  come  to  him. 
It  was  spring,  and  all  the  doors  and  windows  were 
open.  Dorothy  would  scarcely  be  up  in  the  morning 
before  they  would  come  ;  singly  at  first,  with  a  mes- 
sage or  an  excuse  ;  then  in  groups,  as  if  glad  of  a 
chance  to  pet  the  old  man,  who  they  knew  would  like 
it  in  spite  of  the  fun  he  might  turn  against  them. 
The  sun  shone,  and  the  birds  rioted.  Friends 
brought  flowers  and  fruit,  and  came  oftener  and  from 
longer  distances,  until  wonder  fell  on  the  girls  why 
so  many  went  away  subdued  and  silent,  or  took  that 
time  to  detain  them  at  the  door  or  in  porches  to  tell 
them,  "  He  seems  just  like  a  father  to  our  folks,  you 
know;"  or,  "I  rjever  will  forget  him  —  that  time 
mother  died  — if  it  had  not  been  for  what  he  did  "  — 
Meanwhile  the  doctor  was  very  gentle,  and  had 
time  to  think  of  "  that  door  your  aunt  wants 
mended,"  and  that  old  Mrs.  Jones's  bill  must  never 


OF  ONE   GONE.  II 

be  sent  in,  "because  she  has  had  bad  luck."  There 
was  time  to  have  Marion  read  him  the  newspapers, 
and  to  watch  them  all,  busy  here  and  there  ;  while 
he  let  Jack,  the  wee  boy  of  his  heart,  snuggle  into 
the  pillows  behind  his  back,  and  smooth  his  silky, 
silvery  hair.  He  told  Jack  how  to  make  a  man  of 
himself  by  and  by  ;  and  got  his  scratchy  little  auto- 
graph signed  to  a  gayly-painted  temperance  card, 
that  Jack  might  never  be  a  drunkard. 

Still  the  people  came,  scores  and  scores  of  them, 
and  brother-doctors  also,  who  began  to  sit  apart  by 
themselves,  and  to  talk  so  ambiguously,  that  Hester 
grew  nervously  alarmed.  But  the  warm-hearted 
friends,  and  the  children  that  thronged  the  place,  the 
flowers  and  the  gifts  of  those  golden  spring  days, 
filled  the  house  with  a  strange,  heavenly  atmosphere, 
—  strange,  yet  in  some  way  so  intensely  natural,  so 
like  uncle  Jack,  that  when  he  said  quite  calmly  one 
morning  that  he  was  dying,  and  had  known  for  six 
weeks  that  death  was  coming,  they  went  on  in  the 
same  spirit.  They  let  him  say,  quietly,  tender  last 
words,  and  heard  them  as  softly,  watching  by  him 
all  together.  One  morning  he  talked  while  the 
words  would  come,  followed  them  longer  with  his 
dimming  eyes.  The  sunshine  from  the  east  flooded 
the  bed  with  glory.  Little  Jack,  choking  with  grief, 
held  the  precious  gray  head  close  to  his  breast ;  and 


12  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

outside  the  door  a  footsore  charity  patient,  come  too 
late,  sobbed,  "  Dear  old  father  —  everybody's  father  ! 
And  now  he  has  gone  !  " 

Yes,  it  could  be  said,  "  He  died  worth  so  many.  To 
much,  the  proper  word  is  money  ;  to  many,  friends." 
The  pocket-book  that  fell  to  Dorothy  was  as  good  as 
empty  ;  but,  as  things  were,  she  would  not  have  had 
it  otherwise. 


CHAPTER   III. 

A  Family  Consultation. 

SUPPER  was  ready,  and  nobody  came  but  Jack. 
He  clattered  a  jig  around  the  cosey  room  on  the 
dark  wood  floor,  poked  the  blazing  fire  between  the 
brass  andirons,  seized  the  gray  cat,  who  was  lolling 
like  a  sleek  seal  on  the  bright  rug,  and  kissed  her 
rapturously.  So  affectionate  was  this  boy  at  times, 
though  he  was  sweet  to  his  aunts  only  when  he  was 
lonesomely  pious  late  at  night.  He  was  helping  him- 
self to  cake  when  Marion  entered.  She  was  slighter 
and  younger  than  the  other  sisters,  was  Jack's  oracle. 
He  told  his  friends  emphatically  that  she  did  not  tell 
all  she  knew.  In  a  moment  Granty  and  the  two  girls 
arrived.  There  were  to  Jack  so  many  "aunties" 
here,  that  he  had  led  them  all  into  the  trick  of  calling 
the  one  great-aunt  "  Granty."  She  was  a  trim  little 
dame,  with  white  hair  and  keen  black  eyes.  Her 
impulses  were  like  the  legs  of  the  Wandering  Jew,  — 
forever  on  the  go.  The  girls  respected  as  much  as 
they  loved  her ;  but  they  used  to  wonder  if  ever  be- 

'3 


14  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

fore  there  had  been  so  much  principle,  piety,  pride, 
contrariety,  kind-hearted,  childlike  absurdity,  sense, 
good  judgment,  and  genteel  cantankerousness,  bound 
up  together  in  the  soul  of  one  blue-blooded,  dear  old 
Boston  person.  For,  from  New  England  Granty 
came ;  and  because  of  New  England  was  the  rest  of 
the  earth  by  her  tolerated. 

The  firelight  dancing  over  the  table  flashed  on 
silver  and  linen  and  food  in  abundance,  notwithstand- 
ing the  publican  who  had  visited  Dorothy  that  morn- 
ing. Granty  folded  her  little  withered  hands,  Jack 
bent  his  funny  phiz  over  his  plate,  and  she  asked  the 
blessing.  Dorothy  poured  the  tea,  and  soon  several 
of  them  were  talking  at  once.  This  was  reprehen- 
sible. They  sometimes  stopped  to  reprove  Jack  for 
interrupting,  and  were  told  they  did  it  themselves. 
Indeed,  this  family  would  have  affected  a  stickler  for 
strict  etiquette,  like  a  galvanic  battery  ;  for  there  was 
a  freedom  of  speech,  an  allowance  made  for  individu- 
ality, that  was  startling.  After  a  while,  .Granty,  beat- 
ing time  rhythmically  with  her  teaspoon  in  the  air, 
after  a  fashion  of  her  own,  ejaculated,  "  That  poor 
horse !  Dorothy,  I'm  sure  Pete  neglects  him.  And 
why  don't  he  put  the  fly-net  on  when  I  ride?  To-day 
he  kept  his  ears  and  tail  going,  and  stopped  frequently 
to  kick  flies  off  with  his  hoofs.  Then,  again,  you 
mark  my  words  for  it,  his  food  is  not  right,  or  he 
would  be  in  better  spirits  :  he  acts  depressed." 


A   FAMILY  CONSULTATION.  15 

"  The  men  laugh  at  him,"  put  in  Jack  :  "  they  say 
he  stuffs  himself  until  he  can't  waddle.  Tom  Bates 
said  he  would  sooner  drive  a  bag  of  meal." 

"  Tom  Bates  ! "  echoed  Granty  with  dignity  and 
scorn.  "That  horse  once  nearly  tore  Mr.  Bolton  all 
to  pieces  on  the  railroad-track  :  that  was  before  your 
uncle  bought  him.  He  was  considered  a  dangerous 
beast,  and  he  can  go  fast  enough  if  he  wants  to." 

"  What  makes  him  not  want  to,  then  ? " 

"Hush,  Jack !  "  said  Hester,  she  herself  suggesting, 
however,  that  they  drive  him  on  the  track  thereafter. 

"Marion,"  began  Dorothy,  "something  must  be 
done,  or  we  shall  come  to  a  standstill  financially." 

"  We  must  economize,  perhaps.  Begin  at  this  big 
plate  of  cake  :  none  of  us  like  it." 

"  I  do,"  expostulated  Jack  :  "  I  would  rather  have 
it  than  bread  and  butter." 

"  Cake  ? "  said  Granty.  "  I  would  admire  to  know 
what  we  should  do  if  anybody  dropped  in  to  tea,  and 
no  cake.  When  you  have  kept  house  as  long  as  I 
have,  you  won't  try  to  be  penny-wise." 

"What  are  we  going  to  live  on,  Granty?"  asked 
Hester  placidly,  as  if  it  were  a  good  conundrum,  that 
the  old  lady  would  be  sure  not  to  guess. 

"If  we  take  care  of  what  we  have,  we  shall  do 
well,"  she  returned.  "I  heard  you  to-day,  Hester, 
say  that  Dr.  Woods  wished  to  buy  some  of  your 


1 6  UNCLE  JACK^S  EXECUTORS. 

uncle's  instruments.  Don't  you  part  with  them.  If 
I  only  had  now  the  curious  things  that  ought  of  right 
to  belong  to  me  yet,  how  queer  they  would  be  con- 
sidered !  My  own  father  was  so  abundantly  foolish 
as  to  give  an  elegant  copy,  all  illustrated,  of  a  book 
called  '  King  Solomon's  Temple '  to  the  public 
library  in  the  place  where  we  lived.  The  boy  is 
having  his  supper  now  in  the  kitchen,"  she  interposed 
rather  disconnectedly.  "  He  looked  hungry,  so  I  told 
the  girl  to  get  it  right  away.  I  am  afraid  she  won't 
think  to  give  him  pickles:  he  likes  pickles. — Jack, 
you  go  and  see  if  he  has  any." 

Jack  went,  and  returned  to  report  that  he  had  two 
sorts.  Every  servant  and  every  animal  on  the  place 
ought  to  have  adored  Granty.  She  lived  in  perpetual 
remembrance  of  them. 

"  Yes,  if  you  take  my  advice,"  said  the  old  lady, 
coming  back  to  the  subject  of  finance,  "you  will 
retrench  expenses  somewhere.  Drop  the  village 
paper :  it  never  has  any  thing  in  it  we  do  not  know 
already.  We  might  take  another  city  daily  instead: 
I  like  to  keep  up  with  the  times.  By  the  way,  Marion, 

what  a  flat  thing  that  serial  is  in  the '  Monthly' ! 

I  could  write  a  better  story  myself." 

"  Why  don't  you  do.  it,  Granty  ?  I  bet  it  would  be 
huncky !  Do  !  " 

"Jack!"    said  Hester  in   an  awful  tone,  "I  will 


A   FAMILY  CONSULTATION.  17 

wash  your  tongue  with  soap  and  water  after  tea,  if  I 
don't  lose  sight  of  you." 

"  If  you  do,"  said  he  with  a  smile  that  was  angelic, 
and  a  turn  that  was  surprising,  "  will  I  be  '  Tho'  lost 
to  sight,  to  memory  dear '  ? " 

Wee  chap  as  h.e  was,  he  knew  what  weapons  would 
conquer  the  women,  and  he  never  forgot  a  line  of 
poetry.  The  desultory  table-talk  ran  on  until  supper 
was  over ;  then  Granty  sat  down  before  the  fire  with 
her  favorite  knitting.  She  made  beautiful  mats  and 
rugs,  adorning  the  house  and  consuming  wool  with 
equal  dexterity  and  extravagance  ;  or  so  it  appeared 
to  Dorothy,  who  had  begun  to  look  at  things  so 
practically  that  she  almost  feared  she  would  grow,  as 
Granty  said,  "  penny-wise."  The  three  sisters  waited 
about  the  room  while  a  servant-girl  cleared  the  table, 
and  left  them  again  together.  Marion  pulled  the 
window-curtain  into  graceful  folds,  and  moved  two 
vases  into  other  places  on  the  mantel.  She  had 
those  eyes  that  see  in  a  second  every  thing  in  a  room 
that  can  be  changed  for  the  better,  although  it  was 
Hester  who  was  called  the  artist  of  the  family.  She 
picked  a  pink  flower  from  one  vase,  and  put  it  in  her 
hair  before  she  slipped  into  an  antique  chair,  and 
looked  at  Hester,  who  stood  with  her  hands  clasped 
behind  her.  Soon  she  would  walk  up  and  down  the 
room,  no  doubt,  quite  like  a  man  —  would  this  queer, 
practical,  impractical  Hester. 


1 8  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

Dorothy  opened  the  meeting  by  saying,  when  the 
girl  had  gone  to  the  kitchen,  "  You  all  know,  that 
when  uncle  Jack  died,  taking  what  was  called  the 
estate,  we  had  only  enough  to  live  on  for  about  a  year, 
unless  we  sold  the  house.  We  had  no  idea  of  that, 
of  course.  It  is  a  home  for  all  time,  although  taxes 
and  repairs  cost  more  than  I  ever  thought  possible. 
We  had  a  great  many  things  laid  in  that  have  lasted 
well,  and  some  bills  were  paid  promptly.  I  took 
also  a  few  hundred  dollars  in  notes.  Well,  the  year 
has  gone  around,  and  it  is  spring  again.  We  have 
eaten  up  all  the  supplies,  spent  all  the  money  paid 
in,  and  now  there  are  only  two  or  three  bills  more. 
What  are  we  to  do  next  ?" 

There  was  a  silence.  Jack  shot  a  marble  at  the 
sleeping  cat's  nose  ;  then  Granty  put  in  briskly,  "  As 
soon  as  we  can  turn  ourselves,  I  want  a  summer- 
house  on  that  side  of  the  yard,  across  from  the 
pump:  it  would  save  the  grape-vine  from  destruc- 
tion, and  improve  the  property." 

"  We  must  cut  off  expenses,"  said  Marion,  answer- 
ing the  first  question.  "  Suppose  we  dismiss  the  girl, 
sell  the  horse,  and  burn  kerosene  ? " 

"And  eat  oatmeal,"  ventured  Hester  at  random. 
The  word  seemed  to  be  the  watchword  of  people 
who  wrote  on  economy :  it  fired  Granty  into  instant 
rebellion.  She  declared  it  was  fit  for  nothing  but 


A   FAMILY  CONSULTATION.  19 

chicken-feed ;  and,  as  for  kerosene,  not  a  drop  of  it 
would  she  ever  have  in  the  house,  —  the  "  nasty,  dan- 
gerous stuff"  that  it  was! 

"You  are  mistaken  about  the  oatmeal,  Granty," 
said  Marion,.  "It  is  very  stylish.  In  New  England, 
now,  they  have  it  every  morning.  When  it  is  shaped 
in  moulds  like  jelly,  it  is  exceedingly  high-toned." 

Granty  sniffed  ironically. 

"As  for  dismissing  the  girl,"  urged  Dorothy, 
"  what  would  the  result  be  ?  Granty  would  work 
herself  sick ;  or  you  and  Hester,  who  are  the  only 
ones  to  bring  in  any  money,  would  have  no  time  to 
paint  or  write  ;  and  nothing  would  be  gained  in  the 
end.  We  might  sell  Old  Mortality." 

"Good,  faithful  creature  as  ever  lived,"  sighed 
Granty.  "  I  don't  begrudge  him  the  little  he  eats ; 
and  I  should  not  have  been  so  well  this  year,  if  I 
had  not  had  my  little  drives  occasionally." 

Hester's  eyes  rolled  in  comical  resignation  ;  and 
she  remarked  emphatically,  "  We  will  not  part  with 
Old  Mort  for  his  weight  in  gold." 

"Well,  then,"  continued  poor  Dorothy,  "what 
shall  we  do  when  the  next  two  notes  are  collected 
and  spent  ? " 

"Just  this,"  answered  Marion:  "Hester  and  I 
must  work  for  money,  instead  of  amusement.  It  is 
a  blessed  thing  that  we  both  know  what  we  can  do, 


20  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

and  have  done  it  already.  I  ran  over  my  account- 
book  to-day,  and  I  was  surprised  to  see  how  much  I 
had  earned  in  the  few  years  past.  Coming  by  tens, 
twenties,  and  so  on,  I  have  used  it  as  I  liked,  but 
have  never  really  tried  to  see  how  far  it  would  go  for. 
necessary  things." 

"I  never  thought  of  painting  for  money,  either," 
said  Hester,  "  until  I  tried  coloring  photographs,  and 
some  of  uncle  Jack's  patients  begged  to  be  'done  in 
oil.'  Mrs.  Judge  Wilkes  has  often  teased  me  to  paint 
her  a  game-piece  for  her  dining-room.  I  think  I  will 
now." 

"I  do  not  like  the  idea  at  all,"  remarked  Granty. 
"  Mrs.  Wilkes  has  not  called  on  me  since  your  uncle 
died :'  she  does  not  know  what  is  proper  or  polite." 

"I  have  heard  that  she  is  out  of  health,"  said 
Dorothy. 

"  She  is  able  to  be  out  to  church,  with  a  feather  on 
her  head  like  an  Indian  princess,"  clicked  Granty, 
apparently  off  the  end  of  her  knitting-needles. 

"  When  does  the  next  note  come  due  ? "  asked 
Hester. 

"Next  month,"  said  Marion;  "and  in  the  mean 
time  I  have  thirty  dollars  for  my  Easter  story." 

"  I  thought  you  wanted  a  new  dress." 

"Well,  that  will  come  some  way,"  returned  Marion, 
with  the  nonchalance  that  had  made  this  family  a 


A   FAMILY  CONSULTATION.  21 

unique  one  in  the  eyes  of  the  neighbors.  They 
never  did  what  was  expected  of  them.  Immediately 
after  their  uncle's  'funeral,  which  was  peculiar,  al- 
though in  keeping  with  the  man's  life, — no  dirges 
sung,  but  half-triumphal  hymns,  and  the  grave  filled 
with  bright-colored  flowers,  —  immediately  after  it, 
these  girls  went  about  the  house  in  the  same  garbs, 
doing  the  same  things,  talking  of  their  uncle  as  if 
he  were  gone  on  a  journey.  When  the  neighbors 
asked  little  Jack  if  they  were  not  going  to  wear 
mourning,  he  replied,  No,  because  uncle  Jack  said 
that  "a  house  full  of  women  in  black  was  as  bad  as 
owning  a  set  of  rusty  old  hearses.  It  fairly  made 
the  sunshine  musty,  and  he  would  not  have  it  for 
him."  Again,  after  the  first  loneliness,  the  new 
strangeness  of  missing  their  uncle,  wore  off,  they 
would  take  life  so  buoyantly,  that  it  was  something 
for  which  the  community  was  not  prepared,  and  of 
which  it  scarcely  approved. 

"To  sum  matters  all  up,  then,"  said  Dorothy,  after 
a  long,  rambling  discussion  of  ways  and  means,  "we 
must  spend  as  little,  and  make  as  much,  as  we  can, 
and  that  is  the  end  of  it." 

That  evening  Marion  went  early  to  her  own  room, 
an  enticing  nook,  always  warm  and  rosy  in  winter, 
with  books  and  cushions  and  ornaments,  only  in  the 
right  places.  In  summer  the  birds  sang  close  to 


22  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

the  windows,  and  the  apple-blossoms  or  rose-leaves 
drifted  in,  with  hints  of  perfume  and  beauty.  To  be 
sure,  the  furniture  had  belonged  to  Granty  when 
she  was  a  girl,  half  a  century  before ;  but  it  befitted 
the  abode  of  this  young  woman,  who  also  had  some- 
thing dainty  and  quaint  in  her  person  and  character. 

She  let  down  the  curtain,  and  lifted  the  desk-lid 
of  an  old-time  secretary,  saying  to  herself,  "  I  had 
better  take  an  account  of  stock,  if  I  am  going  into  lit- 
erature with  bread-and-buttery-malice  aforethought." 
She  turned  over  piles  of  manuscript,  with  occasional 
comments  half  aloud.  "  Children's  stories,  tolerable 
pay,  if  good,  almost  sure  to  be  accepted :  I  like  to 
write  them  sometimes." 

She  opened  a  drawer  labelled  Poetry.  There  was 
nothing  original  there.  "Thank  heavens!  I  never 
was  left  to  attempt  that,"  she  ejaculated.  "  Uncle 
showed  me  too  early  in  life  the  difference  between 
poets  and  the  tribe  that  would  be.  I  fancy  this  is 
the  one  case  when  he  would  not  quote  his  favorite, 
'them  that  are  fools,  let  them  exercise  their  talents.' 
There  are  Sunday-school  books,"  she  sighed,  "al- 
ways in  demand.  I  could  write  one  a  month,  pious-y 
characters,  pages  well  watered  with  hymns,  padded 
with  Scripture ;  but  it  is  wicked  work,  this  writing 
by  the  yard,  —  disgusting  work.  Then  there  are  sen- 
sation serials.  There  is  money  there ;  but,  O  Tony 


A   FAMILY  CONSULTATION.  23 

Weller  !  It  is  not  '  worth  going  through  so  much  to 
get  so  little,'  even  if  I  get  scores  more  dollars  than 
Tony  got  letters  in  the  alphabet.  I  can't  rack  my 
brains  to  fancy  how  a  diabolical  villain  lives  and 
moves,  and  has  his  being,  day  after  day ;  I  cannot 
enjoy  sulphur  and  brimstone  that  I  mix  up  myself 
in  a  pint  basin.  I  made  money  out  of  one  such 
story,  but  it  went  against  the  grain.  I  like  to  write 
for  every-day  people  stories  of  other  people  like 
themselves  ;  and,  when  any  thing  comes  to  me  as 
unusually  good  or  beautiful,  I  wish  to  say  it  in  the 
best  way  natural  to  me.  When  I  do  this,  I  always 
seem  to  sell  my  articles  :  so  I  might  as  well  go  on 
in  the  old  way,  only  working  more  diligently." 

Some  recollection  made  Marion  laugh  aloud ;  and 
Dorothy,  going  past  her  door,  came  in,  asking, 
"  What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  Do  you  remember  my  first  story  ?  " 

"No:  what  ailed  it?" 

"  I  know  now,  you  were  away  from  home,"  said 
Marion.  "Well,  I  began  when  I  was  fifteen  to  write 
a  novel  that  should  make  me  famous.  I  put  in  every 
person,  real  or  ideal,  tha-t  I  liked  :  I  made  chapter 
after  chapter,  as  time  went  by,  writing,  them  on  the 
backs  of  old  letters,  and  on  blank  leaves  of  uncle 
Jack's  'Congressional  Globes.'  At  last  I  had  a  vast 
amount  scribbled ;  some  of  it  was  rather  good,  some 


24  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

so  very  young,  all  of  it  in  the  crudest  shape,  —  people 
and  plots  enough  for  six  novels,  and  woe  enough  for 
one  dozen.  I  fairly  revelled  in  crushed  lives  and 
death-beds.  One  rainy  day  I  copied  the  first  chap- 
ter, revising  it  as  I  wrote.  Suddenly  it  came  to  me 
that  it  would  be  great  fun  to  have  the  whole  pub- 
lished as  a  serial  in  the  village  paper,  anonymously 
of  course.  Then  uncle,  Granty,  and  you  girls,  would 
read  and  discuss  it,  and  I,  listening,  have  much  sport. 
I  wrote  Mr.  Sproul,  the  editor,  a  letter,  offering  to 
send  a  chapter  each  week,  &c.,  only  he  must  promise, 
upon  his  honor,  to  keep  my  secret.  The  next  day 
he  sent  me  a  very  charming  note.  He  had  heard 
me  very  'favorably  mentioned/  'a  niece  of  uncle 
Jack's  must  have  talent.'  Would  I  consent  to  have 
my  manuscript  amended  according  to  an  editor's 
ideas  of  fitness  ?  If  I  would,  he  would  read  the  first 
chapter,  judge  of  it,  and,  if  accepted,  would  put  it 
immediately  into  type.  Oh,  yes !  he  added,  that, 
although  he  would  be  glad  to  pay  me  for  the  story, 
a  country  editor  could  not  think  of  such  a  thing.  It 
was  fun  and  fame  I  wanted ;  and  I  replied  that  it  was 
no  matter  about  pay.  Two  days  later,  uncle  Jack  was 
reading  the  paper,  and  gave  a  little  whistle,  then  be- 
gan, while  my  heart  beat  fast  enough  to  choke  me,  — 

"  The  public  will  be  pleased  to  learn  that  we  shall  begin  next 
week  the  first  instalment  of  a  brilliant  serial  by  an  accom- 
plished young  lady  of  our  own  town." 


A  FAMILY  CONSULTATION.  25 

"Well,  well!"  said  uncle,  "who  is  going  scooting 
up  the  path  of  glory  this  time  ?  I  have  not  been 
called  to  any  patient  with  a  rush  of  romance  to  the 
brain ;  but  that  may  be  just  because  she  has  found 
relief  in  this  way." 

"  Oh,  I  was  so  provoked !  everybody  would  know 
what  I  was  doing  in  less  than  a  week,  now  eyes  and 
ears  were  open.  I  had  meant  the  editor  to  print 
it  as  quietly  as  he  would  have  begun  a  reprint  of 
some  English  novelist's  last  book,  and  I  expected  it 
to  produce  just  as  good  an  impression,  perhaps  bet- 
ter. All  my  enthusiasm  turned  to  disgust.  The 
bare  thought  of  copying  week  after  week,  and  no- 
body suprised,  nothing  but  stupid  questions !  I 
could  not  and  I  would  not  go  on.  But  that  dreadful 
editor  had  been  so  polite  !  In  my  pocket,  then,  was 
a  note  sent  by  his  messenger,  saying  he  had  set  up 
half  one  night  getting  it  into  nice  shape.  Would 
I  please  not  underline  almost  every  sentence,  and 
would  I  make  paragraphs  once  in  a  while  (he  showed 
me  how),  and  send  more  copy  immediately?  they 
made  up  their  paper  several  days  ahead.  But  I  was 
bound  to  write.  I  had  agreed  to  do  it.  I  had  drawn 
that  man  of  business  into  a  plan  of  my  own  propos- 
ing. He  had  even  advertised  me,  which  he  had  no 
business  to  do ;  but  thereby  he  seemed  to  have  me 
doubly  in  his  awful  power.  As  I  had  never  pub- 


26  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

lished  a  line,  it  was  a  little  funny  that  I  was  so  sure 
everybody  would  know  me  for  the  'accomplished 
young  lady  ; '  but  that  I  never  once  doubted.  I  was 
awake  all  night,  and  early  the  next  morning  I  con- 
fessed to  Hester.  She  calmly  said  I  was  a  great 
fool,  and  would  have  to  go  right  on  being  one,  if 
Mr.  Sproul  held  me  to  it.  I  declared  I  should  go 
crazy ;  and  Hester,  seeing  how  wrought  up  I  was, 
saw  also  that  something  must  be  done.  She  said 
again  I  was  a  big,  big  fool  to  have  gotten  into  such  a 
mess,  and  that  I  must  go  and  beg  off:  That  I  could 
not  do.  Why,  the  very  mention  of  that  manuscript 
made  me  blush,  not  to  speak  of  facing  a  live  editor. 
Hester  grew  more  savage,  as  she  does  when  she  is 
going  to  sacrifice  herself ;  and,  the  crosser  she  grew, 
the  more  I  was  comforted.  She  muttered,  '  Mr. 
Sproul  is  a  gentleman,  they  say.  He  is  an  infidel 
too.  I  heard  once  that  he  said  he  might  be  beef- 
steak in  his  future  state,  his  body  entering  into 
grass,  you  know,  and  a  cow  eat  of  it.' 

"What  such  a  horrid  sentiment  had  to  do  with 
my  serial,  I  could  not  see.  But  Hester  went  on, 
'  Your  yarn  is  long,  long,  ever  so  long  drawn  out, 
isn't  it  ? ' 

"  '  He  was  going  to  condense  it,'  I  answered  meekly. 

"/He  couldn't;  I  know  he  couldn't/  she  retorted 
fiercely.  '  And  it  is  pious,  isn't  it  ?  VERY  pious  ? ' 


A   FAMILY  CONSULTATION.  27 

"  '  Oh,  no  !  not  partic  '  — 

" '  I  know  it  is  now,'  she  insisted.  '  It  naturally 
would  be,  brought  up  as  you  have  been,  and  I  tell 
you  it  has  got  to  be  !  Come  along  now.' 

"  I  picked  up  my  hat  (I  remember  it  so  well),  and 
followed  her  down  Main  Street,  until  I  saw  over 
the  old  engine-house  the  sign  '  Local  Intelligencer : ' 
then  I  would  not  go  a  step  farther.  Hester  growled ; 
but  she  went  on  and  on,  and  in.  I  admired  her,  as 
if  she  had  fired  a  loaded  cannon,  or  started  to  do  so. 
When  she  came  out,  I  ran  to  her,  crying,  '  Will  he 
let  me  off,  Hester,  will  he  ? ' 

"She  declared  she  would  not,  if  she  were  in  his 
place,  and  then  laughed;  and  I  joined  her  until  I 
ached,  for  I  knew  she  had  succeeded.  She  said 
that  he  looked  politely  defiant ;  said  the  entire  paper 
for  the  next  issue  was  made  up,  and  my  first  chapter 
covered  the  whole  page.  Poor  man !  he  was  an 
invalid  too,  and  he  let  her  know  he  had  taken  pains 
with  my  manuscript.  Hester  told  him  he  would 
have  much  more  trouble  to  come,  if  he  did  publish 
it;  for  it  was  just  endless.  It  went  on  and  on  and 
on.  I  had  been  three  years  at  it ;  and,  after  a  year 
in  print,  the  climax  would  be  far  off.  He  said, 
'  Phew,  phew  !  The  young  lady  must  condense :  it 
will  be  valuable  practice  for  her.' 

"  Hester  hinted  that   it  was   not   adapted   to  his 


28  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

paper  anyway.  He  said  he  thought  the  first  chap- 
ter showed  talent.  Yes,  she  admitted  that ;  but  she 
thought  herself  it  was  better  suited  to  a  Sunday- 
school  library.  It  was  pious,  very,  very  pious,  more 
and  more  as  it  went  on,  weaving  in  sermons,  theo- 
logical discussions,  and  theories  of  reform.  The 
poor  man  grew  sad,  as  well  as  vexed ;  but  he  said, 
in  condensing,  all  that  must  be  cut  out,  for  it  could 
not  go  over  election.  Political  matters  must  largely 
fill  the  paper  then.  Hester  caught  at  that.  She 
made  him  think  the  story  might  stretch  from  one 
campaign  around  to  another,  if  once  it  got  well 
underway.  In  short,  after  Hester  had  made  me  out 
the  most  completely  equipped  fool  that  you  ever 
heard  of,  the  poor  man  let  me  off,  and  said  he  had 
the  whole  .paper  to  make  over  again.  He  died  of 
consumption  in  a  year  or  two,  and  I  feel  so  sorry 
when  I  think  what  trouble  I  made  him.  But  I  hope 
he  never  told  anybody." 

"What  became  of  the  serial?"  asked  Dorothy. 

"  After  six  or  seven  years  I  boiled  it  down,  burned 
up  the  '  fine  '  parts,  mitigated  the  affliction,  and  sold 
it  for  two  hundred  dollars." 

"  Write  another  and  better  one,  and  get  more  for 
it,"  recommended  the  practical  sister;  and  Marion 
assured  her  she  meant  to  go  about  something  of  the 
kind  at  once. 


A  FAMILY  CONSULTATION.  29 

"  Girls,"  said  a  voice  behind  them  ;  and  they  turned 
to  see  Granty,  in  fluttering  nondescript  garments,  — 
"  girls,  you  must  stop  talking.  I  can  hear  you  ;  and, 
if  I  do  not  get  to  sleep  when  I  first  go  to  bed,  I  do 
not  sleep  a  wink  all  night.  Dorothy,  is  the  cellar- 
door  fastened  ? " 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"And  the  west  windows  locked?  And  the  meat 
for  breakfast  where  the  cat  cannot  get  it  ?  And  do 
you  know  whether  the  girl  left  any  matches  around 
loose?" 

"  Every  thing  is  right  about  the  house,  Granty." 

"  Well,  go  to  bed  now.  If  I  should  not  be  well 
enough  to  be  down  in  the  morning,  see  that  the  boy 
gets  plenty  of  sirup  on  his  cakes."  Then  Granty 
withdrew  to  the  background,  like  the  little  old  lady 
on  Swiss  clocks  ;  but  she  re-appeared  in  a  second, 
saying,  "  Remind  me  to-morrow  to  see  if  the  brine 
covers  the  pork  in  the  barrel.  Bridget  is  so  careless, 
it  will  all  be  rusty  the  first  thing  we  know." 

She  retreated  for  a  time ;  again  she  appeared,  and 
this  time  her  tone  was  quite  tragic. 

"  Marion,  if  something  is  not  done,  the  child  will 
be  ruined  I  am  afraid." 

"  What  child,  Granty  ?  " 

"  Why,  Jack.  He  says  he  tied  a  nail  to  a  string, 
so  it  went  tick-tack  against  Mr.  Bruster's  windows, 


30  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

and  made  him  look  out  to  see  what  the  matter  was. 
And,  worse  than  that,  Sunday  I  went  into  the  infant 
department  to  give  him  a  penny  for  the  collection, 
and  he  was  not  there.  That  minute  he  appeared, 
in  a  weeping-willow  by  the  window,  and  looked  in. 
I  went  after  him,  and  he  said  he  only  took  that  way 
to  see  if  the  teacher  was  there." 

"  I  will  whip  him  to-morrow  if  you  won't  stand 
any  longer  in  your  stockings  on  the  cold  floor, 
Granty." 

"  I  beg  of  you  don't,  Dorothy.  I  only  wanted  to 
show  you,  that,  in  time  to  come,  he  might  need  disci- 
pline. I  hope  you  are  sure  about  the  cellar-door." 

Marion  locked  her  desk ;  Dorothy  arose  to  go  ;  and 
Granty  made  a  slow  but  final  exit.  Peace  settled 
down  over  the  old  house.  Uncle  Jack's  great  silver 
watch  ticked  under  Marion's  pillow.  If  she  staid 
awake  at  night,  it  always  seemed  like  a  companion. 
It  was  the  same  one  she  had  begged  to  have  opened 
for  her  in  the  days  when  she  rode  his  boot-leg  to  a 

song  of 

"  Shoe  the  horse,  and  shoe  the  mare, 
And  let  the  little  colt  go  bare." 

It  was  the  same  watch  to  whose  tick  he  had  many 
times  counted  pulses  in  death-chambers,  —  he  who 
was  now  dead.  It  never  seemed  to  tick  in  a  melan- 
choly way,  however,  but  always  seemed  to  Marion 


A  FAMILY  CONSULTATION.  31 

to  say,  "  Make  the  best  of  it !  Be  brave,  self-reliant. 
Do  the  best  you  can  !  Be  kind  to  Granty,  and  keep 
well  little  Jack.  God  will  bless  you." 

She  heard  its  messages  for  a  while  this  night,  and 
then  they  ceased  for  her.  Hours  went  by.  It  must 
have  been  after  midnight,  when,  as  if  continuing  a 
conversation,  Granty's  voice  sounded  out  in  the 
stillness:  "And  tell  her  she  puts  in  too  much  fat, 
so  she  had  better  bake  the  potatoes  hereafter.  It 
might  slip  my  mind ;  so,  while  I  think  of  it,  I  will 
mention,  Dorothy,  that  old  Mrs.  Ruggles  never  will 
pay  the  note  you  spoke  of  without  a  fuss.  She  .is  a 
very  disagreeable  person  to  have  dealings  with." 

Nobody  heard  it  but  Hester.  That  did  not  mat- 
ter. Granty  must  arise,  and  speak  in  the  hall  when 
the  spirit  moved  her.  She  was  as  unconcerned 
about  her  listeners  as  the  muezzin  who  calls  the 
hour  of  prayer  from  the  minaret. 

"  Haven't  you  slept  well,  Granty  ? "  came  faintly 
from  Hester's  room. 

"  Not  a  wink." 

Nevertheless  Hester  did  not  quite  believe  her. 
The  dear,  old  lady  slept  and  waked  so  easily,  the 
girls  doubted  if  she  knew  about  the  transition 
times. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Hester  and  the   Widow  Ruggles. 

ONE  June  morning  Dorothy  sat  in  the  office,  in  a 
huge  red  wooden  chair,  before  the  doctor's  old 
desk.  Back  of  her  was  his  medical  library  :  in  front 
were  shelves  filled  with  bottles  of  every  size,  shape, 
and  color.  On  the  walls  were  physiological  charts 
interspersed  with  bronze  medallions.  On  the  top 
shelf  of  the  desk  at  which  Dorothy  sat  were  three 
dusty  skulls,  and  behind  the  door,  in  a  little  side-room, 
hung  literally  the  skeleton  in  the  closet.  It  had 
been  there  for  years,  always  lacking  two  ribs  and  one 
foot.  Draughts  of  air  through  the  place  used  to  sway 
it,  even  gently  to  rattle  its  bones  ;  but,  these  singular 
young  women  said,  "  As  we  do  not  know  what  to  do 
with  it,  we  may  as  well  let  it  alone  :  "  therefore,  un- 
disturbed by  its  proximity,  Dorothy  bent  over  the 
large  account-books  at  this  time,  and  only  shut  them 
to  say  to  herself,  "  Hester  must  go  to-day." 

At  that  moment  Hester  appeared,  as  if  in  answer 
to  the  summons,  only  she  was  followed  by  a  little 
32 


HESTER  AND   THE    WIDOW  RUGGLES.  33 

boy  with  a  large  bottle.  She  went  directly  to  an 
upper  shelf,  filled  the  bottle  from  a  larger  one,  shook 
the  contents,  and  gave  it  to  the  lad,  saying,  "Tell 
your  mother  it  is  almost  gone.  She  will  have  to  get 
it  from  some  doctor  hereafter." 

"  Mar  says  no  doctor  round  here  don't  know  how 
to  fix  it  right,  and  she  can't  live  if  she  don't  have 
this  yaller  mixter  in  the  spring.  She  says  she  bet 
you  could  make  it  if  you  only  knowed  how." 

Hester  smiled  scornfully,  but  followed  the  smile 
with  a  sigh.  Uncle  Jack  had  been  dead  a  year,  but 
some  of  his  faithful  old  patients  still  turned  their 
steps  toward  that  office.  Hester  often  knew  what 
some  of  them  wanted ;  and,  where  the  case  was  a 
simple  one,  she  dealt  out  the  stock  of  medicine  that 
remained.  She  had  as  much  knowledge  of  drugs, 
and  skill  in  nursing,  as  many  a  fledgling  doctor  has 
started  with.  She  had  been  uncle  Jack's  student, 
after  a  fashion,  from  her  babyhood.  Granty  was  one 
day  amazed  to  find  her  putting  an  instrument  down 
a  woman's  throat,  with  the  coolness  of  a  practised 
surgeon,  and  was  told,  "She  came  with  a  chicken- 
bone  in  her  throat.  You  would  not  have  had  me 
send  her  off  black  in  the  face,  because  I  hadn't  a 
Latin  diploma,  would  you  ? " 

When  the  child  had  gone,  Dorothy  said,  "  Hester, 
can  you  not  go  and  collect  one  of  the  notes  ?  Marion 


34  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

wants  to  write,  and  I  am  busy  with  Granty,  or  soon 
will  be." 

"  What  is  there  to  do  ?  " 

"  To  go  and  find  the  widow  Ruggles,  —  Mrs.  Al- 
mira  Ruggles.  She  has  a  splendid  farm ;  but  she 
always  talks  poverty,  I  hear.  She  is  that  queer 
character  that  told  uncle  Jack  her  boy  had  '  barna- 
cles '  all  over  his  lungs.  Well,  her  note  is  forty-seven 
dollars,  seventy  cents,  with  interest  for  eleven  months. 
I  have  forgotten  what  per  cent  she  pays.  Can  you 
compute  interest  ? " 

"  Of  course,  of  course,"  said  Hester,  who,  after  a 
boarding-school  course  of  mathematics,  was  a  broken 
reed  to  lean  upon  when  exactness  was  required.  "  Of 
course  ;  or  she  can,  probably." 

"  Will  you  be  very  business-like  ?  Are  you  afraid 
to  insist  that  she  shall  pay  every  cent  ? " 

"Emerson,"  remarked  Hester  grandly,  "says  that 
'a  great  part  of  courage  is  the  courage  of  having 
done  the  thing  before.'  Thus  far  in  my  experience 
as  executor  of  this  estate,  or,  more  modestly  speak- 
ing, one  of  the  executors,  nobody  has  paid  up  to  a 
cent :  therefore  I  have  not  that  courage  that  would 
come,  had  my  insisting  heretofore  done  any  good  ; 
but  I  will  insist  all  the  same." 

After  a  few  more  questions  as  to  Mrs.  Ruggles 
and  her  note,  Hester  opened  a  glass  door  into  the 


HESTER  AND    THE    WIDOW  .RUGGLES.  35 

garden/  went  down  the  beaten  path  to  the  barn,  and 
called  Pete  to  harness  Old  Mortality.  Suddenly  Jack 
fled  over  the  lettuce-bed  from  one  direction,  shouting 
in  alarm,  "  Get  out  of  the  way,  aunt  Hester  ; "  while 
Pete,  the  black  boy,  came,  like  a  sky-rocket  on  a 
horizontal  course,  from  another  quarter.  In  hot  pur- 
suit of  the  latter  was  an  old  red  nag,  working  its 
nostrils,  showing  its  teeth  like  a  vicious  puppy,  albeit 
a  tremendously  big  one.  Pete  went  over  the  garden- 
fence  just  in  time ;  then  he  made  futile  grabs  at  the 
brute,  who  pranced  forward,  backed  off,  kicked  up 
his  heels,  waltzed  hither  and  yon,  apparently  keeping 
up  a  succession  of  grimaces  at  the  youth  over  the 
fence. 

"I  can't  catch  'im,  Miss  Hester:  t'ain't  no  use. 
When  I  go  fer  to  try,  he  bites  me  with  one  end,  an' 
he  kicks  me  with  'e  t'other.  He's  the  cussinest  ole 
thing  I  ever  seed,  anyway  !  " 

"  I  don't  think  you  are  kind  to  him,  Peter,"  said 
Hester  severely.  "  He  never  behaved  so  when  uncle 
Jack  was  alive  —  never !  He  doesn't  love  you." 

Pete  had  no  illusions  on  that  score  to  dispel ;  but 
he  only  grinned  over  the  top  rail,  while  Jack  from 
the  shelter  of  the  pump  called,  "  Pete  is  afraid  of  him, 
and  he  knows  it." 

The  horse  stood  like  a  statue  for  the  next  few  sec- 
onds, then,  with  a  flirt  and  a  rush,  charged  upon  the 


36  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

open  barn-door,  went  through  and  into  his1  stall ; 
whereupon  Pete  contrived  to  get  the  halter  over  his 
head. 

"Now,  then,  do  not  let  him  get  away  from  you 
again,  if  you  cannot  manage  him,"  said  Hester,  fol- 
lowing them  in  out  of  the  sweet  June  air,  and  stand- 
ing in  the  shadow  of  the  barn.  The  hay-seed  sifted 
down  through  the  chinks  in  the  floor  over  her  head, 
and  lodged  in  her  brown  hair,  while  the  swaying  cob- 
webs tickled  her  inquisitive  nose  ;  and  much  the  small 
black  boy  wished  she  would  go  into  the  house,  in- 
stead of  searching  into  his  doings  in  the  way  he  par- 
ticularly dreaded.  A  man  might  be  expected  to  find 
out  that  he  had  used  the  chamois-skin  for  dusting  the 
pKaeton  as  a  swab  to  wash  the  gig-wheels,  and  to 
object  to  his  taking  a  pound  of  lard  a  day  from  the 
cellar  to  grease  the  wagon  ;  but  for  a  young  lady  to 
keep  the  run  of  such  moral  derelictions  was  trying, 
and,  to  his  mind,  uncalled  for. 

He  watched  her  nervously  as  she  looked  into  meal- 
bins,  and  tipped  water-pails  toward  the  light  with  her 
trim  foot,  that  she  might  see  if  they  were  clean.  He 
backed  Old  Mortality  hurriedly  into  the  traces,  and 
sang  lustily,  "  Nobody  knows  the  trouble  I  feel,"  lest 
Hester  should  see  his  latest  exploit, — the  shortening 
of  the  tail  of  that  family  beast  by  at  least  five  inches. 
Happily  for  him,  she  went  to  put  on  her  bonnet  before 


HESTER  AND    THE    WIDOW  RUGGLES.  37 

he  had  to  drive  him  around  to  the  front-gate ;  and, 
when  she  re-appeared  there,  she  did  not  at  once  notice 
the  poor  creature's  reduced  circumstances. 

Old  Mortality  had  three  gaits  :  the  first  was  a 
melancholy,  dignified  stalk  ;  as,  for  example,  when 
of  an  afternoon,  Granty  sat  behind  him  in  the  phae- 
ton, his  four  legs  seemed  stiffened  into  rods  of  iron. 
He  paced  along,  his  tail  solemnly  vibrating,  seldom 
lifting  it  against  a  fly,  without  coming  to  a  full  stop, 
when  he  swung  it  around  with  great  empressement. 
To  whip  him  in  this  mood  was  to  wear  out  your  arm 
of  flesh,  and  to  bestir  him  as  much  as  if  you  had 
tickled  Gibraltar  with  a  broom-corn.  His  second 
gait  was,  as  Tom  Bates  hinted,  the  unambitious  wag- 
wag  of  a  well  stuffed  meal-bag  trying  the  career  of  a 
quadruped :  he  assumed  this  in  the  business  car- 
riage. But  not  one  of  the  doctor's  own  family  had 
seen  an  approach  to  his  third  gait  since  uncle  Jack 
died.  That  was  a  dead  secret  between  Old  Mortality 
and  the  succession  of  boys  who  had  the  care  of  him. 
How  they  each  discovered  and  transmitted  it,  we 
cannot  tell ;  but,  if  ever  one  of  them  found  himself 
away  from  the  haunts  of  men  with  this  hypocritical 
old  beast,  he  could  rival  Brom  Bones  or  Tarn  o'  Shan- 
ter  as  a  driver.  Hester  alone  suspected  this,  and 
used  to  attack  Mortality  with  whip,  reins,  whistles, 
cluck-clucks,  with  as  forcible  language  as  a  lady 


38  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

might  use :  she  never  beguiled  him  out  of  the  wag- 
wag.  At  this  pace,  of  course,  they  went  to-day,  still 
with  a  tranquil  mind  in  Hester  ;  for  the  familiar 
country  roads  were  pleasant,  as  what  roads  are  not 
when  grass  is  crisp  and  green,  when  trees  are  alive 
with  birds,  and  over  all  is  a  sky  so  radiant  with  sun- 
and-cloud  beauty  it  would  fill  one  with  delight,  though 
it  arched  over  a  desert  ?  While  Hester  rode  along 
those  roads,  it  seemed  to  her  she  could  hear  her 
uncle's  genial  voice  as  he  told  her  of  the  families 
whose  homes  they  passed.  How  much  he  liked  his 
patients,  no  matter  how  peculiar  they  were  !  He 
could  not  shut  out  of  his  heart  or  his  help  what  the 
tender  old  philosopher  calls  "  the  great  world  of  God's 
cheerful,  fallible  men  and  women,"  or,  as  to  that,  the 
disconsolate  ones. 

By  and  by  Hester  turned  toward  an  ugly  wooden 
farmhouse,  and  left  Pete  with  Old  Mortality  at  the 
big  gate.  The  narrower  one,  like  the  front-door,  was 
evidently  little  used  ;  but  she  brushed  through  the 
tall  grass  and  dandelions  around  the  house,  coming 
then  to  rickety  steps  up  to  a  sunny  porch  in  the  rear, 
where  a  woman  was  bent  over  a  washtub,  —  a  yellow, 
inexpressive  woman,  who  stared  at  her  until  she 
understood  her  errand,  and  then  feebly  exclaimed, 
"  Law,  now  !  One  of  the  old  doctor's  daughters  !  — 
oh !  niece,  is  it  ?  Wall,  sure  enuff,  that  there  bill  is 


HESTER  AND    THE    WIDOW  RUGGLES.  39 

doo.  I  was  thinkin'  on't  last  week  ;  but  the  men- 
folks  is  so  driv  in  the  fields,  that  I  couldn't  nohow  git 
a  hoss  off  work  to  come  in  and  see  you  'bout  it. 
Walk  in,  an'  I'll  stop,  all  suds  as  I  be,  if  you'll  ex- 
cuse me." 

She  led  Hester  through  a  kitchen  into  the  family 
room,  and  left  her,  while  she  went  for  her  accounts, 
her  bills,  and  so  on. 

"A  study  of  ugliness,"  thought  the  amateur  artist, 
left  to  look  around  her.  "  How  can  a  woman  who 
has  five  dollars  not  absolutely  needed  for  food  or  fire 
live  in  such  a  house  without  making  it  homelike  ?  " 

Dorothy  would  have  been  sharpening  her  wits  for 
business.  Hester  scowled  at  the  carpet  of  brown 
rags  patched  with  yards  of  a  pauper-blue  color,  saw 
that  the  old  wooden  lounge  had  a  butternut  brown 
shawl  for  a  cover  ;  while  a  few  straw-bottomed  chairs, 
and  a  bare,  big  table,  completed  the  furniture.  Al- 
manacs, coats,  hats,  a  clock,  and  a  fashion-plate 
behind  a  vase  of  paper  roses,  adorned  the  walls  at 
irregular  distances.  Hester  had  mentally  painted 
the  floor  oak,  covered  the  lounge  with  chintz,  got  up 
one  unbleached  curtain,  and  was  going  on  to  some 
simple  bric-a-brac,  when  Mrs.  Ruggles  re-appeared, 
sat  down  heavily,  and  remarked,  with  a  shade  of  sad- 
ness, "  I  suppose  you  just  cast  up  that  bill  in  the  fust 
place  right  off  your  uncle's  books  as  they  stood, 
didn't  you  ?  " 


40  UNCLE  JACJTS  EXECUTORS. 

"  Undoubtedly  my  sister  did  ;  for  uncle's  books 
were  all  kept  in  order,"  returned  Hester,  adding,  "  a 
great  many  visits  charged  there  we  did  not  bring  into 
account,  however,  because  uncle  Jack  had  marked 
them  with  a  star,  signifying  he  meant  to  make  a 
large  deduction  from  the  regular  rates.  They  were 
usually  visits  to  his  poorer  patients  ;  and  we  have 
let  them  go,  for  the  most  part." 

Dorothy  would  not  have  told  this  to  whom  it  did 
not  concern. 

"  Our  account,  your  uncle's  and  mine,  has  run  and 
run,  —  oh!  run  fer  years."  Mrs.  Ruggles's  tone 
implied  that  she  would  gladly  have  had  it  resemble 
the  poet's  brook,  and  "  run  on  forever."  She  paused 
before  she  added  persuasively,  "  There  wasn't  no 
stars  scattered  along  in  the  course  of  mine,  or  was 
they  some  few  ? " 

There  were  two  in  Hester's  eyes  as  she  answered, 
"  There  were  none." 

"  Mebby  not ;  but  all  the  same  this  is  a  bill  of 
your  make,  and  not  of  hisen.  When  your  uncle  did 
fetch  one  in,  he  always  used  to  let  off  on  about  one- 
quarter  of  it  all  told.  He  knowed  how  I  was  situate, 
—  left  a  widdy-woman,  with  a  great  lot  o'  boys  to 
bring  up,  and  a  big  farm  to  see  to  besides.  He  con- 
sidered it  every  time,  dear  old  gentleman  !  " 

"  I  like  that  system  myself,"  said  Hester  in  the 


HESTER  AND    THE    WIDOW  RUGGLES.  41 

perfectly  polite  tones  that  Jack  used  to  say  meant 
"feathers  and  war-paint  ;  "  "  only  it  does  not  go  far 
enough.  I  would  willingly  drop  charges  for  perhaps 
twenty  or  thirty  visits  my  uncle  made,  —  visits  that 
meant  wear  and  tear  of  himself  and  of  his  horse- 
flesh, cost  of  drugs  and  carriage-care,  —  if,  when  I 
went  to  the  grocery  to  pay  my  bill,  I  could  say,  after 
the  same  fashion,  "  This  bill  has  run  so  long,  can't 
you  cut  off  charges  for  about  eight  dozen  eggs,  and 
fifty  pounds  of  butter,  and  all  that  cheese  and  soap 
and  starch  we  have  used  up  long  ago  ? "  and  Hester 
looked  placidly  out  of  the  window,  across  the  "  widdy- 
woman's  "  broad  and  fertile  acres,  thinking,  "  I  am 
insisting,  Dorothy,  this  time." 

"  Of  course,"  replied  Mrs.  Ruggles.  "  Everybody 
wants  their  doo,  and  it  is  all  right,  only  it  is  dreffle 
tight  times.  You  —  wouldn't  be  willing  to  turn  that 
there  note,  would  you  ?  You  see  the  crops  sort  of  gin 
out  last  year,  and  ready  money  is  so  scass !  But 
mebbe,  now,  if  we  could  —  kinder — turn  it,  you'd  do 
just  as  well  by  yourselves  as  t'other  way,  and  accom- 
modate me  a  great  deal  better." 

"How  could  we  ? "  asked  Hester,  as  prompt  in  tone 
as  she  was  vague  in  comprehension. 

The  widow  pushed  her  glasses  off  her  light-green 
eyes,  and  betook  herself  to  cogitation. 

"  You  would  not  want  some  brown  leghorns,  for 
one  thing,  would  you  ?  " 


42  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

Hester,  with  confused  thoughts  of  strayr  bonnets, 
said,  "  No." 

"Well,  you  just  come  with  me  a  minute,  and  let 
me  show  you  something,"  Mrs.  Ruggles  exclaimed 
enthusiastically.  "  I  guess  we  can  agree  on  it  as  sleek 
as  a  pin." 

She  seized  a  sun-bonnet  off  a  peg  behind  the  door, 
and  signified  to  Hester  that  she  should  follow  her 
down  the  back-steps,  through  the  barnyard,  where  a 
flock  of  young  turkeys  joined  them  ;  and  about  twenty 
hens  also,  mistaking  the  widow's  errand,  ran  cackling 
after.  Behind  a  red  barn,  past  three  big  haystacks, 
they  came  to  a  pasture,  where  she  stopped,  and  leaned 
on  the  bars  of  the  rail-fence.  A  little  creek  ran 
through  the  field ;  flat  mossy  stones  edged  its  banks ; 
a  few  low-boughed  trees  hung  over  it ;  and  under 
them,  luxuriating  in  the  coolness,  were  five  or  six 
cows.  Some  were  ankle-deep  in  the  brown  water, 
chewing  the  cud  in  content :  others  were  clipping 
the  crisp  grass,  their  red  sides  glowing  in  the  sun- 
shine. 

"  Isn't  that  one  a  beauty  ? "  said  Mrs.  Ruggles, 
pointing  to  a  near  cow.  "  She  is  the  neatest-shaped 
creature  you  ever  see,  and  playful  as  a  kitten,  unless 
you  are  a-milking  of  her  :  then  she  is  as  gentle  as  you 
please.  You  never  set  eyes  on  such  milk  as  it  is,  — 
clear  cream,  it  is  so  rich.  And  she  gives  a  patent 


HESTER  AND    THE    WIDOW  RUGGLES.  43 

milk-pail  brimming  full  twice  a  day.  Did  you  ever 
hear  the  beat  of  that  ?  " 

"How  much  does  a  patent  milk-pail  hold?"  asked 
Hester  sagely. 

"  Hold  ?  Why,  about  as  much  as  you  could  stag- 
ger under.  Now,  that  creature  is  a  splendid  breed, 
and  I  never  should  sell  her  if  we  did  not  want  not  to 
keep  so  many  on  'em.  S'pose,  now,  you  take  her, 
Miss  Prescott  ?  A  body  would  think  a  family  like 
your'n  would  take  lots  o'  milk  to  cook  with  and  to 
drink.  Then  there  is  cream  fer  berries,  and  butter  if 
you  ever  make  it.  There  ain't  nothing  like  plenty  of 
milk  to  save  butchers'  bills,  if  that's  any  account  to 
you  :  'tis  to  most  folks." 

Hester  was  strongly  tempted.  Perhaps  the  novelty 
of  buying  a  cow,  when  she  had  hitherto  only 
"  shopped "  for  ribbons  and  pictures,  moved  her  in 
some  degree ;  then  Granty  was  fond  of  Charlotte 
russe.  But  maybe  it  was  not  a  good  cow.  Perhaps 
to  buy  a  cow  intelligently  was  to  go  all  over  it  with  a 
tape-measure,  to  look  at  its  horns  and  hoofs,  to  count 
its  teeth,  and  to  put  scientific  questions  in  regard  to 
all  its  points,  —  such  questions  as  she  had  seen  in 
"The  American  Agriculturist."  Reflecting  thus, 
she  gave  Mrs.  Ruggles  to  understand,  with  equal 
modesty  and  truthfulness,  that  she  was  a  mere  ama- 
teur in  cow-purchasing,  and  that,  while  to  this  cow 


44  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

in  particular  she  felt  somewhat  inclined,  she  could 
not  decide  hastily. 

"  I  tell  you  what,"  said  Mrs.  Ruggles  :  "just  lemme 
call  Myron.  He's  a  professor.  He  won't  tell  you  no 
fibs ;  but  he  will  tell  you  all  about  them  creaters,  and 
which  is  the  best  on  'em.  — Myron,  Myron  !  " 

Out  from  a  near  barn  came  a  lank  young  person, 
who  looked  like  his  mother,  and,  like  her,  was  clever, 
even  if  a  little  "  near." 

"  Which  is  the  best  on  'em  ?  "  he  repeated.  "  There 
ain't  no  best  among  'em.  Finest  lot  o'  cows  in  the 
county.  Most  on  'em  give  twenty  quarts  a  day. 
There  ain't  no  calculatin'  the  butter  we've  made. 
Mother's  broke  down  taking  care  of  it,  and  that's  the 
only  reason  we  want  to  sell  one  or  two  on  'em  off." 

"Is  this  an  imported  cow?"  asked  Hester,  that 
being  the  only  question  she  could  think  of  that 
sounded  at  all  in  keeping  with  the  occasion. 

"Wall  —  no  —  not  exactly;  but  her  ancestors  must 
have  been." 

"  Which  cow  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Ruggles  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  any  one  on  'em  :  they  are  all  number-one 
creaters.  That  ar  red-legged  one,  now  —  she  is 
worth  sixty  dollars.  I  tell  you  what,  when  you  taste 
that  cow's  milk,  every  mouthful  says  it's  cow's 
milk  !  " 

"  Oh  !  that  is  just  what  I  do  not  want,"  cried  Hes- 


HESTER  AND    THE    WIDOW  RUGGLES.  45 

ter  instantly.  "  If  there  is  any  thing  that  is  disagree- 
able to  me,  it  is  milk  that  tastes  cowy." 

"  My  patience  !  Why,  that's  just  the  mark  of  a 
genewine  cow.  But  women-folks  is  awful  queer  about 
such  things.  Wall,  that  speckly  one  by  the  old  stump 
across  there  —  she  is  mighty  nigh  a  Flanders." 

"  Is  she  what  is  called  a  Flanders  ?  "  asked  Hester 
briskly. 

"  Mighty  nigh,"  reiterated  the  conscientious  young 
man.  "And  that  one  over  yonder,  near  her  —  she  is 
to  all  intents  an  Ayrshire  cow.  Don't  you  see  how 
fine  her  nose  is  between  the  muzzle  and  the  eyes  ? 
Her  legs  are  short,  and  her  bones  are  fine  ;  her  joints 
are  firm,  and  her  shoulders  are  thin  at  the  top ;  then 
her  brisket  is  light,  and  her  milk-veins  are  well  de- 
fined. She  is  a  prime  one  !  " 

"  Does  all  that  make  her  an  Ayrshire  cow  ? "  asked 
Hester,  resolved  not  to  be  swept  away,  but  still  some- 
what stirred,  by  this  sudden  eloquence. 

"  Yes :  them  is  all  Ayrshire  traits  that  I've  been 
telling  you,  —  them  and  some  others." 

"That  may  be,  Mr.  Ruggles.  But  did  not  this 
cow  and  all  her  ancestors  originate  on  this  or  some 
other  farm  near  here  ? " 

Mr.  Ruggles  was  honest,  if  he  was  trading  cows. 
He  came  up  to  the  question  thus,  — 

"  S'posen  they  did,  Miss  Prescott.     If  you  was  to 


46  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

find  a  Jew  up  in  the  north  pole,  and  all  his  relation 
there  in  the  family  buryin'-ground,  wouldn't  you 
allow  he  was  a  Jew,  and  not  a  Esquimau?  It  is 
the  same  way  with  Ayrshire  cows,  exactly." 

Before  Hester  could  rally,  mother  Ruggles  inter- 
posed :  "  It  is  the  little  Jersey,  Myron,  that  I  know 
she'd  set  an  awful  store  by  if  once  she  got  it  home, 
and  tried  the  rich  yaller  milk.  Look  at  her  pretty 
head,  and  loving  sort  of  eyes.  —  S'pose,  Miss  Prescott, 
you  take  this  ere  cow  home  to-day,  and  try  her  for 
a  week.  That  lot  behind  your  barn  is  good  .enough 
for  a  pasture ;  and,  if  you  ain't  just  crazy  to  keep  her, 
we'll  take  her  back  when  you  say  the  word,  and  pay 
the  note  cash  down.  If  she  does  well,  and  you  will 
have  her,  we'll  call  it  square,  and  tear  up  the  paper. 
Now,  won't  you  let  Myron  show  that  boy  out  there 
with  your  horse  how  to  lead  her  home,  this  very 
day,  alongside  o'  you  as  you  drive  ? " 

Hester's  face  betrayed  her  desire  to  try  the  experi- 
ment ;  whereupon  Myron  chimed  in,  "  Yes,  Miss 
Prescott,  she  is  as  easily  led  as  a  lamb  would  be. 
Will  you  let  me  hitch  a  rope  to  her  horns,  and  give 
it  to  the  little  boy  ?  " 

Hester  said  "  Yes  ;  "  then,  amazed  at  her  own  act, 
called  to  black  Pete  in  a  very  calm  way,  "  Come 
here,  and  see  if  you  can  do  something." 

Pete  came,  grinning  with  anticipation,  'and  took 


HESTER  AND    THE    WIDOW  RUGGLES.  47 

"  firm  hold  on  the  rope  that  Myron  had  brought  from 
the  barn,  and  tied  to  the  cow.  The  pretty  creature 
gazed  mildly  at  him,  and,  with  a  stout  pull,  he  started 
for  the  gate.  Her  part  of  the  programme  was,  of 
course,  to  follow  him  ;  but,  from  some  quick  sense 
of  insult,  she  made  an  agile  revolution,  and  Pete  very 
nearly  stood  upon  his  woolly  head. 

"  Oh,  pshaw  now ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Ruggles. 
"Well,  mebbe  she  is  a  little  taken  by  surprise. — 
Myron,  you  better  lead  her  down  to  the  bend  in 
the  road,  and  she'll  understand  matters  then,  most 
likely." 

Myron  complied  at  once,  and  they  started  all  to- 
gether. It  was  Hester's  intention  to  let  Pete  sit  in 
the  phaeton,  after  a  while,  and  hold  the  rope-end, 
letting  the  cow  amble  along  behind  Old  Mortality, 
whose  gait  could  not  be  too  rapid  even  for  her.  But 
it  is  always  the  "  unexpected  that  happens."  When 
Myron  gave  the  rope  into  Pete's  hands,  all  went  well, 
and  continued  so  for  some  time.  Hester  was  just 
about  to  stop  Old  Mortality,  and  take  Pete  into  the 
carriage,  when  the  little  African  abruptly  began  a 
series  of  wild  gymnastics  that  would  have  made  an 
acrobat  expire  with  envy.  It  is  not  supposable,  that, 
if  Pete  should  live  a  century,  he  could  again,  under 
any  other  circumstances,  go  so  rapidly  through  so 
many  revolutions,  gyrations,  circumambulations,  and 


48  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

altogether  aimless  genuflections,  as  he  carried  on 
for  the  next  five  minutes.  There  was  no  mistaking 
the  motive  power.  There  was  enough  of  what  the 
French  call  Man  in  that  meek-eyed  little  Jersey  cow 
to  have  made  a  regiment  resistless.  All  that  Hester 
could  do  was  to  drive  Old  Mortality  up  to  his  knees 
in  mayweed,  and  leave  the  road  clear,  that  her  com- 
panions might  describe  circles  that  resembled  in- 
finity, their  centres  being  everywhere,  and  their 
circumferences  nowhere.  She  cried  out,  full  of  fear, 
"  Can  you  stand  it,  Pete  ?  Oh,  do,  if  you  can ! " 
About  the  time  that  he  could  not,  the  little  cow 
calmed  herself  and  went  on,  as  if  she  were  meek  in- 
deed. This  happy  condition  of  mind  and  body  lasted 
for  half  a  mile.  Mortality  stalked  majestically  on. 
Hester  drove,  with  her  head  turned  away  from  his 
solemnly  vibrating  tail,  watching  Pete  in  the  rear,  — 
Pete,  whose  wool  was  white  with  wayside  dust,  and 
whose  eyes,  like  Iser's  flood,  were  "  rolling  rapidly." 
It  happened,  that,  where  they  went,  the  farm- 
houses were  few  and  far  apart,  and  unfenced  fields 
were  all  along  the  quiet  road.  Once  Hester  was 
betrayed  into  admiration  of  the  beautiful  swaying 
wheat,  and  forgot  her  fellow-travellers  for  the  time 
being.  Then  a  shadow  —  two  of  them  —  fled  past 
her.  There  was  a  whir,  a  rattle,  a  sound  of  rushing 
feet,  then  silence,  and  only  a  flying  cloud  of  dust 
left  behind  in  the  road. 


HESTER  AND*  THE    WIDOW  RUGGLES.  49 

"  We've  done  gone  into  the  wheat,"  came  back 
faintly,  in  a  minute. 

"  Have  you  let  the  rope  go  ? "  again  called  Hester. 

"  No :  reckon  I  kin  go  whar  she  kin,  We're 
a-restin'."  And  then  she  heard  him  add,  in  his  re- 
treat, "  Call  yerself  a  cow,  do  ye  ?  Yer  the  swelled- 
up,  cussinest  old  June  bug  ever  flopped  !" 

"  Yes,  do  rest,"  said  Hester  sympathetically.  "  It 
is  hard  on  you,  Pete,  and  I  suppose  you  have  crushed 
down  just  so  much  wheat  anyway.  That  can't  be 
helped." 

They  reposed  so  long,  however,  that  she  called  at 
last,  "  Come,  try  again,  Pete !  If  you  get  her  safely 
home,  you  shall  go  to  every  circus  this  summer." 

The  cow  was  led  forth,  not  unwillingly,  and 
stepped  along  at  an  even  rate  for  another  mile,  be- 
fore she  shot  off  into  a  marsh  behind  a  thicket,  from 
whence  came  the  wail :  "  It's  all  squashy,  an'  I've 
los'  my  ole  shoes  :  oooh  ! " 

When  they  emerged,  it  was  a  long  way  ahead  of 
the  phaeton.  The  cow  was  bellowing  wildly,  and  so 
was  Pete  :  his  spirit  seemed  to  be  broken. 

"  Can't  you  tie  her  to  something?"  cried  Hester. 
"  Do  tie  her  to  something,  Pete,  or  she  will  kill 
you." 

"  She  has  !  "  howled  Pete ;  and  Hester,  in  the  ex- 
citement, believed  him.  But  there  was  just  then  a 


50  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

temporary  calm  :  the  cow  entangled  her  own  rope  in 
a  rail-fence,  and  had  to  come  to  a  stand-still.  Hes- 
ter drove  up  to  the  spot,  soothed  Pete,  sent  him 
back  after  his  shoes,  and  debated  what  they  should 
do  when  he  returned.  To  send  Peter  home  alone 
to  tell  the  tale,  with  African  exaggerations,  would 
be  to  have  the  entire  family  come  out  thinking  to 
find  her  tossed,  gored,  and  left  dying  by  the  way- 
side. 

"  Pete,"  she  exclaimed,  "  you  stay  here,  and  watch 
the  cow,  while  I  drive  home,  and  send  a  man  back 
for  it." 

"  No  !  "  roared  Pete  instantly.  "  I'm  scared  of  her 
all  'lone.  'Pears  like  the  debble  mought  be  in  her. 
Mammy's  seen  debbles  git  inter  cattle  heaps  o'  times. 
I'd  radder  run  her  longside  o'  compny." 

"Well,  then,  if  you  can  stand  it,  we  will.  You 
shall  have  a  whole  pie  when  we  get  home,  sweet- 
ened with  molasses,  as  you  like  it  best." 

Thus  sustained  and  soothed,  Pete  said  that  he 
could  go  on  immediately  ;  but  what  a  going  that  was, 
taken  as  a  whole !  To  be  sure,  the  Jersey  cow  had 
lucid  intervals,  when  she  paced  along  by  sober  Old 
Mortality,  and  they  seemed  to  be  two  beasts  with  but 
a  kindred  thought.  But  again  she  whirled  poor  Pete 
down  an  embankment,  and  through  a  stony  ravine ; 
she  whisked  him  over  an  acre  of  Canada  thistles,  and 


HESTER  AND    THE    WIDOW  RUGGLES.  51 

broke  down  a  rail-fence  by  a  judicious  application  of 
him  as  a  battering-ram  :  but  we  are  so  glad  to  say 
they  reached  home  about  three  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon. The  cow  and  Peter  came  first.  She  plunged 
through  the  front-gate,  upset  an  urn  of  flowers,  and, 
finding  herself  really  free,  stopped  under  the  veran- 
da where  Granty  sat  reading  Jeremy  Taylor's  "  Holy 
Living."  Pete  flung  himself  on  the  grass,  and,  to 
her  perplexity  and  her  questions,  responded  only  by 
groaning,  and  waving  his  hand  in  the  direction  of  the 
North  Road,  down  which,  like  a  very  high-toned 
funeral,  Old  Mortality  was  decorously  proceeding. 

"  What  does  this  mean,  Hester  ? "  said  the  old 
lady.  "  Why  don't  Pete  drive  this  creature  out  ? " 

"  It  is  the  way  the  widow  Ruggles  turned  her  note," 
was  the  enigmatical  answer ;  and,  for  more  informa- 
tion, Granty  followed  to  the  kitchen,  where  Hester 
told  Bridget  O'Flarity  first  of  her  exploits,  and  Bridget 
rubbed  her  big  red  hands  in  glee. 

"  Arrah,  now  !  "  she  would  like  to  see  the  cow  that 
would  not  love  her.  "  In  course  the  crayture  couldn't 
take  kindly  to  a  hathen  with  the  face  of  Pete."  She 
would  make  her  "  swate-mannered  as  a  dove,"  once 
she  "  had  a  hand  on  her  :  "  so  out  she  went  to  entice 
her  into  the  barn  to  coax  and  pet  her  into  docility. 
Granty  was  busy  enough  with  Pete.  He  was  told 
he  need  not  move  again  that  day.  He  was  offered 


52  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

liniment  and  arnica  and  hamamelis.  He  was  en- 
couraged to  refresh  himself  at  once  with  beefsteak, 
strawberry  short-cake,  and  pork  and  beans,  with  side- 
dishes  many  and  varied.  As  soon  as  the  arrival 
was  published  throughout  the  house,  the  family  fol- 
lowed Miss  O'Flarity  to  the  barn. 

Dorothy  gazed  at  the  animal  doubtfully.  Granty 
and  Marion  were  inclined  to  think  Hester  had  been 
wise  in  bringing  her  home.  Jack,  like  a  large  and 
troublesome  fly,  was  under  and  over  and  all  about 
her,  finally  shrieking,  "  Let  us  call  her  Buttercup, 
dear  little  Buttercup  ; "  and  they  did  then  and  there. 

We  need  only  add,  that,  when  her  first  natural 
excitement  died  out,  she  proved  to  be  in  all  respects 
the  kind  of  cow  that  the  widow  Ruggles  had  declared 
her. to  be  ;  and,  after  a  week  of  trial,  they  decided  to 
keep  her  for  their  own. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Which  introduces  a  New-England  Person. 

HESTER,  do  you  like  ministers  ?  "  asked  Granty 
one  morning. 

"Oh,  yes!  Are  they  not  just  as  good  as  other 
Christians  when  they  behave  themselves  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  child.     What  a  singular  speech  !  " 

Jack  looked  up  from  a  boat  he  was  whittling  to  see 
if  she  meant  him  ;  then  he  remarked,  "  Granty  had  a 
minister  here  to  see  her  yesterday ;  not  ours,  either." 

"  Did  you  ?     Who  was  he,"  asked  Hester. 

"  Mr.  Severn,  the  new  pastor  of  the  Old  First 
Church.  His  family  are  Massachusetts  people ;  and 
he  knows,  as  I  found  out,  very  many  members  of  old 
families  in  Boston  and  Cambridge,  with  whom  I  am 
connected  over  and  over  again  by  marriages.  We 
had  a  delightful  conversation."  And  Granty  sat  even 
more  erect  as  she  added,  "  I  have  not  met  a  person 
with  whom  I  was  so  well  pleased  in  a  long  time." 

Hester  was  secretly  wondering  what  the  old  gen- 
tleman could  have  wanted.  She  did  not  think  he 

53 


54  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

might  be  young.  So  in  a  moment  she  said,  "  He  has 
been  in  town  only  a  few  weeks.  Is  it  not  queer  for 
him  to  call  so  soon  on  strangers  who  are  not  in  his 
church  ? " 

"  I  do  not  think  it  is  strange  at  all.  Did  not  every 
minister  come  sooner  or  later  to  see  your  uncle  ? 
Even  the  priest  and  the  rabbi  used  to  call." 

"  He  was  everybody's  friend  ;  and  we  are  women." 

"  There  was  reason  enough  this  gentleman  should 
call  on  me,  and  I  hope  to  see  more  of  him  hereafter," 
she  added  significantly. 

Marion  mischievously  asked,  "Why  did  you  not 
call  us  into  the  room  to  see  the  old  gentleman  ? " 

"Old?  He  is  not  more  than  thirty-five  or  forty. 
You  will  have  chances  enough  to  see  him.  We 
talked  so  fast  I  forgot  you." 

"  If  he  does  not  preach  to  us,  we  shall  not  be  very 
likely  to  see  him,"  said  Hester. 

Granty  now  struggled  between  her  desire  to  say 
something  and  her  fear  that  it  would  not  be  well 
received.  Jack  helped  her  out  of  the  difficulty  in  a 
way  peculiar  to  himself. 

"  I  think,"  he  observed  off-hand,  "  that  he  is  a 
mighty  queer  fellow.  He  came  along — I  was  a-settin' 
on  the  horse-block  "  — 

"Sitting"  (Marion). 

"Sottin"'  (Jack).     "Well,  sitting  on  the  block; 


INTRODUCES  A   NEW-ENGLAND  PERSON.       55 

and  he  began  to  ask,  'Does  Mrs.  — Mrs.  — Mrs.'  — 
(then  he  could  not  tell  for  the  life  of  him  who)  '  live 
in  here  ? '  I  said,  '  Prescott  ? '  He  asked  if  she  was 
a  widow.  I  said  there  was  four  of  them  inside  there." 

"  Why,  Jack !  There  is  not  a  widow  here  but 
Granty." 

"  Well,  what  are  you,  then  ?  There  isn't  any  hus- 
band to  any  of  you.  Would  you  have  had  me  said 
you  were  all  old  maids  ?  I  can't  tell  what  you  are, 
I'm  sure ! " 

"Are  we  not  all  young  and  beautiful,  and  in  our 
prime  ? "  cried  Marion  with  comic  sternness. 

"  I  didn't  know  you  were  so  awful  young.  You  all 
of  you  are  nice  enough ;  but  you  might  be  widows, 
couldn't  you  ? " 

"  Certainly.     But  go  on  with  your  story." 

"  Wall,  he  said  he  was  looking  for  an  elderly  widow 
who  lived  along  here.  I  said  Granty  was  about 
ninety ;  then  I  said  no,  she  couldn't  be,  because  she 
sees  and  hears  and  eats,  and  don't  walk  on  a  wooden 
leg,  as  old  Mrs.  Weeks  does.  I  said  I  presumed  she 
was  about  forty  or  fifty." 

"Jack!"  expostulated  Granty,  her  eyes  very  bril- 
liant, "  to  say  I  went  on  a  wooden  leg !  " 

"  No  :  I  explained  that  you  didnt.  Next  thing  he 
asked  if  there  was  anybody  here  except  your  own 
family.  You  see,  he  did  not  know  I  lived  here.  I  said 


56  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

.yes ;  that  you  had  one  old  red  horse,  called  Mortality, 
that,  on  a  steady  go,  could  beat  any  trotting  cater- 
pillar he  ever  heard  of;  and  a  litle  nig"  — 

"Jack  Prescott!" 

"  And  a  little  colored  boy  that  Old  Mortality  made 
faces  at,  and  a  girl  from  the  north  of  Ireland,  because 
Granty  liked  those  best.  Then  I  remembered  him  — 
you  know,  down  in  the  closet :  so  I  said  there  was 
a  pretty  old  skeleton  that  lacked  a  few  ribs,  so  he 
was  not  all  there  ;  but  the  most  of  him  had  been 
in  the  family  thirty  years,  though  he  really  did  not 
belong  to  it  in  the  first  place.  I  was  going  to  tell 
him  about  Hester's  cow ;  but  he  got  to  laughing 
awfully :  so  I  walked  off,  and  left  him  to  find  out  the 
rest  for  himself." 

The  girls  were  divided  between  mirth  at  Jack  and 
surprise  at  Mr.  Severn's  questions. 

"  What  curiosity  he  must  have  !  "  said  Hester.  "  I 
am  glad  Granty  did  not  call  us  into  the  room." 

"  Now,  the  sum  and  substance  of  it  all  is  just  this," 
confessed  Granty.  "  He  was  looking  for  a  boarding- 
place,  and  some  one  told  him  that  we  might  take  him. 
I,  of  course,  assured  him  that  we  had  never  done  such 
a  thing  in  all  our  lives  as  to  take  an  outsider  into  the 
family.  He  made  a  very  polite  apology  for  asking ; 
said  he  never  would  have  ventured  to  call,  had  he  not 
supposed  the  person  who  sent  him  had  good  reasons 
for  so  doing." 


INTRODUCES  A  NEW-ENGLAND  PERSON.       57 

"A  boarder!"  exclaimed  Marion,  "and  a  minister 
at  that.  Think  of  it !  " 

"  Yes.    I  told  him  you  girls  would  think  about  it." 

"  Oh  !  how  could  you,  Granty  ? "  cried  Hester. 

"  Because  I  did  not  know  that  it  would  do  to  say 
'yes '  right  on  the  spot.  To  be  sure,  a  person  would 
think  I  might  take  that  much  responsibility;  but  I 
frequently  find  we  do  not  all  think  alike." 

"  It  never  occurred  to  me  that  you  wanted  to  keep 
a  boarding-house,"  said  Hester  naughtily. 

Granty's  indignation  was  extreme.  "/  keep  a 
boarding-house?  I  should  think  you  were  beside 
yourself !  It  is  a  very  different  thing  to  take  in  a 
clergyman  as  a  favor,  when  the  poor  man  does  not 
wish  to  be  running  around  among  strangers  seeking 
a  home.  His  father  knew  old  Judge  Wentworth,  and 
he  was  often  invited  there  when  he  was  a  child.  He 
distinctly  remembered  members  of  the  Leggett  family 
I  have  so  often  spoken  of.  I  do  not  know  how  yo'u 
look  upon  the  matter ;  but  /  think  that  for  a  parcel  of 
women  to  live  in  these  days  with  no  man  about  the 
house  is  pretty  unsafe.  It  was  only  last  night  I  heard 
queer  noises  in  the  back-cellar  near  the  vinegar- 
barrel  ;  and  I  have  my  suspicions  that  a  jar  of  pickled 
peaches  has  been  removed." 

"  Nevertheless,"  said  wicked  Hester,  "  it  seems  to 
me  that  it  would  do  just  as  well  to  keep  a  rat-terrier 
for  such  cases  as  a  minister." 


58  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

"  I  have  nothing  further  to  say  on  the  subject.  Do 
exactly  as  you  see  fit,"  said  Granty  with  severe  dig- 
nity. "Jack,  bring  me  the  last-evening  paper." 

"Do  you  think,  Granty,"  asked  Marion  in  her  most 
conciliating  way,  "that  Mr.  Severn  felt  encouraged 
by  any  thing  said  ?  " 

"  I  neither  told  him  that  he  could,  nor  that  he  could 
not.  Do  not  let  us  have  any  more  words  on  the 
subject." 

"  How  lovely  these  roses  are  over  the  piazza. !  "  re- 
marked Marion,  after  a  pause.  Parting  the  lace  cur- 
tains, she  stepped  out  of  the  window,  and  sat  down 
in  a  rustic  chair,  whither  she  knew  Dorothy  or  Hes- 
ter would  probably  soon  follow.  They  did  ;  and 
Hester  began  immediately,  "  How  do  you  suppose 
she  left  the  question  ?  Perhaps  the  next  thing  will 
be  the  arrival  of  a  barrel  of  sermons,  a  theological 
library,  and  a  dyspeptic  clergyman.  I  could  not 
endure  it ;  could  you  ?  " 

"  Of  course  not.  But  what  shall  we  do  ?  We  can- 
not send  him  word  not  to  come  if  he  has  no  idea  of 
coming." 

"  Suppose,"  said  Dorothy  reflectively,  "  that  we  let 
him  come.  He  might  be  agreeable,  and  no  trouble. 
Granty  would  enjoy  his  society  ;  and  his  board-bill 
would  come  in  very  well." 

"  Never ! "  said   Hester.     "  Marion's  old  German 


INTRODUCES  A  NEW-ENGLAND  PERSON.       59 

teacher  used  to  say  she  was  a  '  unique.'  I  think  we 
are  a  family  of  '  uniques '  in  some  respects  ;  but  I  am 
not  a  bit  proud  of  it.  I  only  realize  forcibly  that  any 
clerical  person  with  clear-starched  manners  and  well- 
regulated  mind  would  be  rendered  unfit  for  his  duties 
by  abiding  with  us  ;  or  else  we  would  —  But  non- 
sense, Dorothy,  you  know  we  won't  have  him  anyway  ! 
We  are  all  peculiarly  adapted  to  be  by  ourselves,  I 
think.  There  is  Granty  —  we  love  and  respect  her  : 
but  we  often  laugh  about  her ;  we  can't  help  it.  All 
the  time  we  kno\y  she  is  very  intelligent,  a  perfect 
lady,  and  a  '  steadfast  old  Christian,'  as  Lamb  says. 
But  do  you  suppose  that  we  would  let  anybody  out- 
side the  family,  who  did  not  appreciate  her,  find  her 
amusing  ?  He  couldn't  help  it.  He  would  expire  if 
he  did  not  laugh  sometimes ;  and,  if  he  did,  I  would 
annihilate  him."  And,  ending,  Hester  looked  as  bel- 
ligerent as  if  a  general  assembly  of  divines  were 
engaged  in  ridiculing  them  as  a  family. 

The  gate  shut  with  a  slam  :  a  gentleman  walked 
leisurely  under  the  trees  toward  the  open  front-door. 
The  girls  glanced  through  the  screen  of  rosebushes  ; 
and  Dorothy  whispered,  "  It  is  Mr.  Severn.  —  You 
go,  Marion  :  my  dress  is  all  tumbled  after  my  straw- 
berry-picking." 

"  No,  I  do  not  want  to  see  him  :  let  Hester." 
Hester  was  willing.     But  Dorothy  was  reluctant  to 


60  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

have  her  go  and  despatch  the  poor  man,  if  Granty 
had  encouraged  him.  Upon  certain  occasions,  and 
usually  with  strangers,  Hester  had  about  the  affabil- 
ity of  the  sphinx  ;  and,  unless  they  were  her  inferiors, 
she  would  be  the  grimmest,  stiffest,  and  most  non- 
committal of  mortals.  Dorothy  was  the  reverse  of 
all  this  in  manner.  You  felt  sure,  after  being  intro- 
duced to  her,  that  she  must  have  heard  of  you  before, 
and  that  favorably  :  later  you  were  sure  she  was  a 
person  whose  good  opinion  flattered  you.  There  was 
scarcely  a  widower,  young  or  old,  who  was  "  looking 
around,"  that  ever  by  chance  encountered  Dorothy, 
who  did  not  soon  ask  after  her,  call  at  the  office  on 
uncle  Jack,  or  boldly  try  his  fortunes  with  her,  always 
hitherto  without  success. 

To-day,  seeing  Hester  glance  at  the  front-door 
with  a  look  that  said,  "  'Twere  well  it  were  done 
quickly,"  and  half  arise,  Dorothy  resolved  to  forget 
her  slightly  tumbled  dress,  and  instantly  glided  past 
her  sisters,  across  the  parlor,  and  into  the  wide  old 
hall.  She  met  Mr.  Severn  at  the  door  with  a  genial 
smile,  and  gave  him  the  great  easy-chair  that  always 
stood  ready  for  chance-comers.  He  was  a  tall  man, 
with  a  strong,  rugged  face,  clear,  pleasing  eyes,  and 
a  good  mouth,  with  character  enough  in  his  features 
to  make  him  seem  older  than  he  could  have  been. 
He  wore  no  gloves,  but  carried  them,  and  was  not 


INTRODUCES  A   NEW-ENGLAND  PERSON.       6 1 

the  kind  of  man  who  suggested  cloth,  ministerial  or 
otherwise. 

"  Perhaps,  Miss  Prescott,"  he  said  simply,  "  I  owe 
you  the  same  apology  I  made  your  mother  yesterday. 
I  do  not  like  my  noisy  rooms  at  the  hotel,  and  I  was 
told  that  I  might  make  some  arrangement  for  quieter 
ones  here.  I  felt  as  if  I  had  taken  a  great  liberty 
yesterday  when  I  found  that  you  had  never  had  any 
one  as  a  boarder  ;  but  your  mother  was  kind  enough 
to  say  she  would  think  of  the  matter,  and  I  might 
call  again." 

"  Yes,  sir.  Aunt  Prescott  told  us  of  your  call,  and 
how  much  she  enjoyed  it.  She  usually  finds  a  friend 
in  one  who  comes  from  Massachusetts.  Well,  it  is 
just  this,  Mr.  Severn,  aunt  Prescott  is  well,  but  not 
very  strong  ;  and  she  takes,  at  any  rate,  so  much 
care  upon  herself,  that  we  think  it  best  to  keep  the 
house  rather  quiet,  and  prevent  her  from  overtaxing 
herself  ;  and  —  and  to  do  this  —  we  —  we  "  — 

Not  having  rehearsed  her  part,  Dorothy  was  taken 
at  a  disadvantage,  and  was  coming  out,  she  knew  not 
where.  The  color  rushed  into  her  cheeks,  and  she 
gasped,  but  only  for  a  second.  Sedately,  and  as  a 
matter  of  course,  Mr.  Severn  broke  in,  — 

"  Yes  :  you  mean  that  you  like  being  quite  by 
yourselves.  I  should  think  it  would  make  the  house- 
keeping easier  :  an  outsider  always  does  make  a  dif- 


62  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

ference.  Your  aunt  and  I  will  be  friends  hereafter, 
Miss  Prescott  ;  for  we  did  have  a  very  delightful 
chat.  She  carried  me  back  to  times  and  people  I  like 
to  remember ;  and  she  lent  me  a  book  I  have  not 
seen  since  I  read  it  in  my  father's  garret,  —  one  day 
when  I  was  shut  up  there  for  some  misdemeanor.  It 
is  a  copy  of  the  '  New-England  Memorial,'  and  with 
it  a  curious  account  of  King  Philip's  war.  I  sat  up 
very  late  last  night  re-reading  it,  and  do  not  know 
when  a  quaint  book  has  interested  me  more." 

Dorothy  said  she  had  read  it  a  long  while  before, 
and  as  briskly  as  possibly  continued  a  conversation 
that  should  detain  him  long  enough  to  leave  a  pleas- 
ant impression.  His  quick  instincts  had  served  him 
so  well,  he  had  saved  her  the  need  of  saying  in  so 
many  words,  "  You  cannot  board  here  ;  "  and  she  was 
very  grateful  to  him.  When  he  went  away,  he  said, 
"  Please  tell  your  aunt  I  have  papers  often  sent  me 
from  the  towns  we  talked  of,  and  I  shall  bring  her  the 
next  I  receive." 

He  lingered,  like  a  friend,  a  moment  at  the  door, 
plucked  a  rose,  and,  meeting  Jack  on  his  way  to  the 
gate,  greeted  him  with  sincere  warmth,  and  a  peculiar 
smile  that  Dorothy  understood  better  than  if  Jack 
had  not  reported  their  previous  interview. 

"Well,"  asked  Marion,  "what  is  he  like,  Doro- 
thy?" 


INTRODUCES  A   NEW-ENGLAND  PERSON.       63 

"  He  is  the  kind  of  a  man  uncle  Jack  would  say 
had  no  nonsense  about  him.  I  liked  him." 

"  Were  you  sorry  to  send  him  away  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no  !  Only  he  would  not  have  been  a  dreadful 
creature  in  the  house." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  spoke  Hester,  from  the  pages  of  a 
new  art  journal.  "  But  what  do  we  want  of  a  man  ? " 

"I  want  him  to  get  out  on  the  roof,"  answered 
Granty,  appearing  suddenly  in  the  door,  —  "to  get 
out  and  tie  a  scraper  of  some  sort  to  a  rope,  and  drag 
it  up  and  down  the  chimney  to  dislodge  the  soot. 
When  the  wind  blows,  it  falls  down  into  the  parlor 
grate,  and  looks  just  like  preserved  plums,  — for  what 
reason  I  am  sure  I  cannot  say." 

"You  dear  old  lady!"  cried  Hester,  "you  shall 
have  a  man  up  there.  If  you  will  keep  him  on  the 
roof,  he  may  stay  there  forever." 

"  How  ridiculous  you  are,  Hester !  It  will  not  take 
a  man  ten  minutes,  and  I  hope  you  will  see  to  it 
immediately." 

Hester  promised  she  would. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Granty  takes  her  "  Turn" 

"  HESTER,"  said  Marion,  appearing  in  the  studio 
one  day,  "  I  want  an  idea,  and  you  must  suggest  it 
to  me.  My  story  has  gone  so  far,  and  suddenly  the 
interest  fails.  I  am  outside  of  my  people,  pulling 
them  about  like  puppets  :  I  must  have  a  new  impulse. 
Listen  !  " 

Seating  herself  on  a  chair,  from  which  Hester 
rescued,  just  in  time,  a  bottle  of  turpentine,  Marion 
began,  —  saying,  "This  is  about  in  the  middle:  I  read 
you  some  of  the  first  once,  — '  Lucian  chose  Ethel's 
favorite  books,  and  read  them  to  her  as  if  he  had 
written  them  himself.  In  music,  with  his  exqui- 
site'"— 

"Who  were  Lucian,"  put  in  Hester,  "and  Ethel  ? 
I  don't  remember  them." 

"  Oh !  I  believe  I  did  call  them  John  and  Susan  in 
the  first  chapter :  I  cannot  be  all  the  time  looking 
back  after  their  names,  until  I  revise  and  copy,"  re- 
64 


GRANTY  TAKES  HER  "  TURN."  65 

turned  Marion,  going  rapidly  on  with  a  few  more 
pages  of  her  manuscript. 

"  Lucian,  or  Adolphus,  or  what  you  may  call  him, 
is  a  stick,"  said  Hester  coolly.  "  There  is  no  more 
blood  in  him  than  there  is  in  a  gilded  liberty-pole. 
Did  you  ever  see  anybody  in  the  least  like  him  ? " 

"  No.  But  I  undertook  to  create  a  character, 
Hester." 

"  Humph  !  Well,  I  like  your  men  who  are  like 
other  men.  Stop,  and  let  me  show  you  a  similar 
effort  of  my  own.  Study  it,  and  tell  me  what  it  is." 
So  saying,  Hester  searched  among  her  treasures,  and 
brought  forth  a  moderately  large  canvas,  which  she 
held  up  before  her  sister.  Marion,  after  a  grave  ex- 
amination, said,  "  It  is  a  pterodactyl.  My  geology 
says  its  anterior  foot  is  the  expansor  of  a  membra- 
nous wing." 

Hester  laughingly  replaced  the  picture,  saying, 
"That  is  the  one  effort  of  my  creative  genius.  I  felt 
sure  that  I  could  portray  Shelley's  Queen  Mab, 
'moving  on  the  moving  air,'  ethereal,  exquisite,  diaph- 
anous, (isn't  that  the  word  ? )  and  all  that,  you  know. 
Yes,  it  is  very  much  like  a  pterodactyl.  I  was  hum- 
bled by  that,  and  taught  to  know  my  limitations.  It 
is  better  for  me  in  art  to  make  faithful  studies  of 
mud-turtles  that  I  have  seen  than  to  undertake  flying 
fairies  I  have  not  seen.  Perhaps  it  may  be  so  in 
literature  with  you." 


66  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

"Verily,  now,  I  think  you  may  be  right,"  said 
Marion.  "  I  am  bored  by  my  hero  ;  and  I  believe  I 
will  tear  him  up,  and  make  another,  after  the  fashion 
of  common  men.  But  what  are  you  painting  now, 
Hester  ? " 

Hester  stepped  back  from  her  work  to  let  Marion 
come  nearer,  and,  in  her  turn,  express  decided  disap- 
probation. On  the  easel  were  two  photographs, — 
one  of  a  good-natured,  big-eyed  man,  with  light  hair 
elaborately  brushed,  with  awkward  large  hands 
crossed  on  his  breast,  and  a  general  air  of  rusticity 
and  good  clothes.  The  other  picture,  evidently 
thrown  up  from  an  old  daguerrotype,  was  of  a  moon- 
faced woman.  It  was  whity  blank  where  shadows 
should  be,  void  of  expression,  and  grotesque  with  the 
fashion  of  a  dress  long  out  of  date. 

"  What  do  you  paint  such  caricatures  for,  Hester  ?  " 

"  Did  not  Dorothy  tell  you  what  I  was  doing  ?  I 
was  reading  in  the  piazza,  one  day  last  week,  when  a 
man  (the  original  of  this  photograph)  opened  the 
gate,  came  up  the  walk,  and  asked  if  the  young 
woman  that  worked  in  oil  was  'to  home.'  I  knew 
what  he  wanted,  when  he  said  that  he  was  Mr.  Jerry 
Scudder,  and  that  Uncle  Jack  once  told  him  that  I 
could  paint  photographs.  Here  'was  his,  and  there 
was  hers.  His  was  taken  the  week  before  :  hers  was 
from  a  picture  taken  fifteen  years  before.'  She  was 


GRANTY  TAKES  HER   "TURN."  67 

dead,  and  he  wished  her  photograph  painted  as  a 
companion-piece  to  his  own.  He  explained  it  all, 
with  a  faith  in  me  that  was  quite  touching.  He  said, 
'  I'd  like  to  have  you  fix  her  to  look  as  she  would,  if 
she  have  lived  up  to  date.' 

"  I  said  I  could  not ;  but  he  declared  that  I  could. 
He  said  I  must  paint  off  those  'long,  loose  ringlets 
that  ain't  worn  now,  and  put  on  frizzles  along  the 
seam  of  her  head,  you  know.'  Couldn't  I  do  that? 
I  said  perhaps  I  could,  if  that  was  all.  No  :  her 
family  all  had  weak  eyes  when  they  'got  along  about 
so  far,'  and  wore  gold  glasses.  Now,  Elizabeth  would 
look  more  natural  and  '  nowadays-like '  to  him  in 
eye-glasses,  could  that  be  managed.  It  appeared  to 
me  a  great  liberty  to  take  with  the  late  Mrs.  Scud- 
der,  —  'she  as  was  a  Perry,'  so  he  said,  —  but,  if  her 
husband  insisted,  I  could  not  refuse.  The  longer  he 
talked,  the  droller  it  seemed,  and  I  became  actually 
interested  in  the  task  he  set  for  me.  The  unpainted 
old  dress  is  hideous  ;  but,  after  I  have  done  my  best 
with  her  face,  I  shall  put  on  a  neat  black  dress  and 
lace  collar,  instead  of  that  plaid  with  huge  frills." 

"  Yes.  And  at  last  who  will  she  be,  I  would  like 
to  know  ?  "  asked  Marion. 

" Oh  !  it  will  not  be  a  be,  but  a  might  have  been" 
said  Hester  absurdly.  "  And  you  need  not  '  tip  tilt ' 
your  nose  at  it,  either ;  for  I  view  these  in  a  prac- 


68  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

tical  way.  I  am  to  have  ten  dollars  each  for  them. 
Mr.  Scuclder's  ruffled  shirt-front  and  seal-ring  repre- 
sent roasts,  puddings,  possibly  potatoes  "  — 

"  O  Hester,  don't !  you  make  me  sick,"  protested 
Marion. 

At  that  moment  the  door  opened  quickly,  and 
Dorothy  looked  in,  asking,  "  Have  either  of  you  been 
down  stairs  this  morning  ?  " 

"No,"  replied  Hester,  "not  since  breakfast.  I 
have  been  painting,  and  Marion  has  been  busy  too, 
—  with  her  writing." 

"And  I,"  said  Dorothy  regretfully,  —  "I  went 
down  town,  and  staid  longer  than  I  intended.  I 
have  just  come  home,  and  was  talking  to  Granty, 
when  I  saw  that  little  tin  box  in  which  we  keep  our 
important  papers,  in  the  dining-room  on  the  table. 
I  asked  why  it  was  there,  and  she  said  that  old  Mrs. 
Kempshall  from  Sandy  Hill  came  in  to  pay  her 
note." 

"  Did  she  ? "  asked  Hester,  interested  at  once. 
"  But  how  could  Granty  attend  to  it  without  sending 
for  us  ?  She  is  not  an  executor,  you  know." 

"Do  you  think  that  would  make  any  difference 
with  her  ?  What  Granty  desires  to  execute  she 
executes,  as  you  ought  to  know  by  this  time." 

"Well,  never  mind,"  said  Marion,  "if  the  woman 
only  paid  the  twenty  dollars." 


GRANTY  TAKES  HER   "TURN."  69 

Dorothy  seemed  to  struggle  with  varied  emotions  ; 
then  she  left  them  as  abruptly  as  she  had  come, 
only  saying,  "  Girls,  she  turned  it ;  but  it  is  not  a 
cow." 

Marion  looked  wonderingly  at  Hester,  saying, 
"  What  can  it  be,  do  you  think  ? " 

"A  panorama  of  the  Holy  Land;  a  dromedary,  it 
may  be.  Let  us  go  and  find  out,"  was  Hester's 
reply. 

They  descended  to  the  room,  where  Granty  sat 
reading  Bogatzky's  "Golden  Treasury." 

"You  see,  girls,"  she  began  at  once,  "my  aunt 
Leggett  used  to  have  one  quite  similar  in  some 
respects.  They  are  regarded  as  rather  a  nice  thing 
to  have  in  a  family.  I  have  often  heard  aunt  Leg- 
gett tell  of  hers.  It  was  the  time  Lafayette  was  in 
this  country ;  and  he  staid  over  night  in  her  house, 
and  slept  under  just  "  — 

"  Beg  your  pardon,  Granty ;  but  has  old  Mrs. 
Kempshall  been  here  this  morning  ?  "  asked  Marion. 

"Yes,  she  has,  to  see  about  that  note  we  held 
against  her.  She  is  a  good  old  soul,  and  I  would 
not  grind  the  face  of  the  poor  for  all  the  world." 

"  Certainly  not.  However,  Mrs.  Kempshall  is  not 
poor,  should  anybody  want  to  inflict  that  injustice 
upon  her  countenance,"  said  Hester. 

"Well,  she  told  me  what  dreadful  work  she  had 


70  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

with  her  crops  last  year.  She  could  not  get  men 
enough  to  help  her,  either,  and  she  had  to  run  a  —  a 
some  sort  of  a  fan  herself,  hands  were  so  scarce." 

Dorothy,  in  a  cold-blooded  way,  said  that  rich 
farmers  always  had  bad  work  with  their  crops ;  and 
Hester  bewildered  the  poor  old  lady  by  saying  that 
nobody  but  heathen  nabobs  had  their  fanning  done 
for  them. 

"  She  suggested,  did  she  not,"  added  Marion, 
"  that  uncle  Jack  always  cut  down  her  bills,  and  "  — 

"  She  did,"  returned  Granty  briskly.  "  And  then 
she  went  on,  you  know,  and  said,  if  I  would  only  con- 
sider that  this  represented  several  years'  work ;  and 
the  separate  pieces —  Well,  really,  it  was  curious 
to  hear  their  history.  They  came  from  about  every 
family  in  the  country:  often  they  were  little  odds 
and  ends  a  dressmaker  would  give  her." 

"The  country — -dressmaker,"  Hester  was  echoing 
doubtfully. 

Dorothy  reached  after  something  behind  her,  then, 
as  if  waving  a  banner,  spread  out  on  the  carpet  one 
of  the  most  singularly  ugly  bedquilts  that  ever  the 
brain  of  a  woman  devised.  It  was  formed  of  uneven 
stars,  of  every  shade  imaginable,  of  silk,  satin,  velvet, 
wool,  even  cotton,  when  "  odds  and  ends  "  ran  low, 
or  the  dressmaker  was  not  abroad.  These  stars  were 
recklessly  besprinkled  over  a  butternut-brown  firma- 


GRANTY  TAKES  HER   "TURN."  71 

ment,  bounded,  however,  as  the  upper  firmament  is 
not,  and  that  by  a  pink  gimp  frayed  enough  to  hint 
of  some  service  in  the 'past. 

Hester  and  Marion  viewed  it  with  amazement, 
mute  at  first.  The  edge  of  Dorothy's  emotion  had 
been  already  somewhat  blunted  :  so  she  said  nothing. 
At  last  Marion  found  breath  to  ask,  "At  what  did 
Mrs.  Kerapshall  value  this  work  of  art  ? " 

"Why,  she  said,"  continued  Granty,  "that  it  was 
not  just  the  cost  of  each  little  piece  ;  but  taking  the 
choice  of  colors  and  the  commingling  of  them,  —  oh, 
yes  !  and  the  associations,  she  spoke  of  them  "  — 

"  Did  she  leave  them  too  ? "  said  Hester  sternly. 
"I  will  not  have  them  —  not  one!  Nobody  shall 
pass  their  old  associations  over  to  me,  no  matter 
what  they  may  attempt  with  their  old  bedspreads. 
I  can  form  new  ones  for  myself." 

"  Why,  you  never  made  a  bedspread  in  your  life, 
Hester !  " 

"  Granty,  I  was  only  talking  of  associations. 
Please  go  on  with  old  Mrs.  Kempshall." 

"She  set  it  all  before  me,  —  her  troubles  of  one 
sort  and  another.  She  is  land-poor,  whatever -that 
is ;  and  the  upshot  of  it  all  was,  she  proposed  to  turn 
this  on  the  bill,  and  call  it  square.  What  else  could 
we  do  ?  It  is  elaborate,  as  you  can  see  for  your- 
selves ;  and,  if  she  thought  it  was  beautiful,  you 


72  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

would  not  wish  me  to  have  hurt  the  poor  creature's 
feelings  by  sneering  at  it." 

"  Did  you    give   up    the   note,    Granty  ? "    asked 
Hester. 
,      "  I  did,  and  she  destroyed  it  before  my  eyes." 

"  What  for,  Granty  ?  " 

"Why,  to  show  me,  I  suppose,  that  she  would 
never  give  us  any  more  trouble,"  returned  the  old 
lady,  with  an  expression  of  worldly  shrewdness  that 
was  irresistible.  "  Now  really,  girls,  you  need  not 
scoff  at  that  quilt,"  she  protested  to  the  young 
women,  whose  feelings  were  finding  expression  in 
peals  of  laughter.  "  I  have  seen  homelier  ones  in 
my  day,  many  a  one  worse  by  far." 

"  Do  you  want  it  on  your  bed  ? "  asked  Marion, 
deceitfully  generous. 

"No — o.  I  have  become  so  used  to  white  Mar- 
seilles, I  cannot  say  that  I  do ;  but  as  a  very  curious 
thing,  you  know —  Either  of  you  can  take  it,"  she 
added  with  equally  prompt  generosity. 

When  the  three  had  refused  it  with  ungrateful 
unanimity,  the  old  lady  placidly  remarked,  "Well, 
if  none  of  you  like  it,  I  will  tell  you  what  we  can  do. 
Stuffed  with  cotton,  it  could  be  made  into  a  warm 
'  comfortable,'  and  you  can  put  it  into  the  next  Home 
Missionary  box  that  goes  West." 

Dorothy  made  her  tones  verybland  indeed  before 


GRANTY  TAKES  HER  "  TURN."  73 

she  suggested  :  <;  It  is  done  now,  so  it  is  of  no  great 
consequence ;  but  after  this,  Granty,  it  will  save  you 
trouble,  when  people  come  on  business,  to  call  one 
of  us.  I  suppose,  according  to  form  of  law,  only 
one  of  the  executors  can  settle  uncle  Jack's  bills." 

"  Oh,  fiddlesticks  ! "  quoth  Granty.  "  Do  you 
suppose  I  can't  attend  to  my  own  brother's  affairs, 
without  asking  what  the  law  allows  ?  I  think  I  shall 
do  that  much  while  I  have  my  right  mind,  executor 
or  not."  Then  she  looked  for  her  glasses  that  she 
had  put  in  her  pocket,  and  went  to  see  herself  if 
Bridget  properly  flavored  the  custard  for  dinner. 

"  I  call  that  an  outrageous  swindle,"  said  Marion, 
when  the  door  shut  behind  her.  "  The  old  schemer 
saw  how  innocent-minded  Granty  was,  and  just 
victimized  us  all.  Probably  she  only  hoped  to  get 
this  starry  monstrosity  in  for  some  small  part  of  the 
amount." 

"  I  have  a  mind,"  said  Dorothy,  "  to  take  it  straight 
back  to  her,  and  make  her  ashamed  of  herself." 

"  No,"  said  Hester  slowly.  "  Let  the  stingy  soul 
go :  uncle  Jack  would,  I  presume.  Don't  you  re- 
member the  man  who  insisted  on  paying  his  bill  in 
pop-corn,  bags  and  bags  of  it,  and  he  let  him  do  it  ? " 

She  mused  a  while,  then  suddenly  exclaimed,  "  I 
have  a  '  home  mission '  for  the  thing.  Come  and  see, 
girls ! " 


74  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

She  picked  the  spread  from  the  carpet,  and  bore  it 
away,  followed  by  Dorothy,  as  far  as  the  office.  Upon 
arriving  there,  Hester  opened  the  door,  behind  which 
dangled  the  poor  old  "  bone  man,"  as  Jack  often 
called  him.  Hanging  one  end  of  the  gay  drapery  to 
a  peg  above  his  head,  she  let  the  soft  folds  com- 
pletely envelope  the  rattling  remains  of  him,  and 
explained  to  Dorothy,  "There!  isn't  that  well?  It 
occurred  to  me  the  other  day,  that  people  not  expect- 
ing such  an  apparition  might  be  startled  if  they 
came  suddenly  on  the  family  ghost.  Now  a  glance 
in  here  will  not  scare  the  most  sensitive ;  and  if  any- 
body has  the  impudence  to  be  prying  around,  without 
leave  or  license,  they  deserve  to  see  all  they  can. 
Poor  old  fellow,  you  are  welcome  to  your  covering." 
And  Hester  turned  away,  feeling  that  in  some  way 
she  was  "even  "  with  Mrs.  Kempshall. 

"After  all,"  she  added,  "the  ugliness  of  the  bed- 
spread does  not  impress  me  half  so  much  as  the 
'associations'  she  threw  in.  The  idea  of  shuffling 
them  off  on  strange  parties  is  —  is  simply  delicious 
in  its  audacity." 

The  dinner-bell  summoned  them  at  this  point,  and 
they  went  back  to  tell  Granty  what  had  been  done. 
She  was  as  much  gratified  as  if  she  had  taken  the 
thing  with  direct  reference  to  this  end.  She  won- 
dered that  she  had  not  reflected  before  this,  that  it 


GRANTY  TAKES  HER  "  TURN."  75 

was  very  shocking  to  have  the  skeleton  exposed  to 
chance  callers. 

Marion  reconstructed  her  story  in  the  afternoon  ; 
but  more  than  once  she  laid  down  her  pen  to  laugh 
outright  at  the  last  "  turn  "  Granty  had  given  to  their 
affairs.  How  uncle  Jack  would  have  roared  over 
such  an  occurrence ! 

It  was  this  same  afternoon,  however,  that  Jack 
brought  from  the  post-office  a  letter  for  Marion,  con- 
taining a  check  for  twenty-five  dollars  :  so  all  was 
well.  Moreover,  the  editor  of  "  The  Flying  Courier  " 
was  "  pleased  to  have  received  another  story  from  " 
her  "graceful  pen,  and  would"  she  "favor"  them 
"  occasionally  in  the  future  ?  " 

She  would,  inasmuch  as  her  graceful  pen  had 
undertaken  to  scatter  just  such  favors  far  and  wide. 


CHAPTER  VII. 
Aunt  Pepperfield's  Nieces. 

NOT  one  of  us  has  written  to  aunt  Huldah  in  a 
long  time,"  said  Hester  one  day;  "and  she 
likes  to  be  kept  informed  of  every  thing  that  happens 
to  us." 

"  It  is  such  a  task  for  me  to  write  letters  ! "  said 
Dorothy.  "  I  think  Marion  ought  to  do  it :  her  hand 
is  in  all  the  time." 

"And  for  that  very  reason,  when  I  am  tired  of 
copy,  I  am  not  free  for  correspondence,"  answered 
Marion.  Nevertheless,  that,  same  afternoon  she 
wrote  to  aunt  Huldah  Pepperfield. 

She  had  gone  to  her  room  for  another  purpose, 
and  was  sitting  with  her  desk,  so  that  the  breeze 
that  fanned  the  white  curtain  could  reach  her,  and 
whenever  she  raised  her  eyes  she  might  catch  a 
glimpse  of  the  outer  world,  a  quiet  bit  of  it,  only 
made  up  of  the  long  village  street,  where  the  trees 
met  overhead,  where  the  grass  grew  each  side  of  the 
road,  and  little  children  played  safely  there  ;  birds 


AUNT  PEPPERFIELD'S  NIECES.  77 

twittered,  and  dandelions  blossomed,  only  now  and 
then  a  carriage  passed. 

"  What  are  you  at  now  ? "  asked  Hester,  in  pass- 
ing her  door. 

"  Oh !  a  short  article,  not  a  story  this  time,  for  Mr. 
Winthrop  Craig." 

"And  who  might  Mr.  Winthrop  be?" 

"  He  is,  as  I  have  only  just  found  out,  the  editor, 
or  one  of  them,  of  'The  Phoenix.'  I  like  his  own 
articles  very  much,  and  I  am  conceited  enough  to 
think  that  he  might  like  mine.  I  shall  give  him  a 
chance  to  find  out  whether  he  would  or  not,  at  any 
rate." 

Marion  wrote  out  in  full  his  address  on  an  envelope, 
and  put  it  on  a  pile  of  manuscripts. 

"  I  wish  you  could  take  time  to  write  to  aunt 
Pepperfield,"  said  Hester,  going  on. 

"  I  will  do  it  now,"  called  Marion  after  her. 

She  took  a  sheet  of  paper  from  that  on  which  she 
had  been  writing  her  article,  and  began  at  once.  An 
hour  later  she  was  surprised  to  hear  the  tea-bell 
ring ;  but  she  had  accomplished  her  undertaking. 
Now,  it  was  one  of  Miss  Marion's  habits  to  direct 
her  envelopes  before  or  during  the  process  of  writing 
her  letters.  She  had  done  so  this  afternoon  ;  but, 
forgetful  of  the  fact  that  she  had  directed  two  for 
different  persons,  she  reached  out  for  one,  took  that 


78  UNCLE  JACK^S  EXECUTORS. 

addressed  to  the  editor  of  "The  Phoenix,"  hurried 
into  it  aunt  Huldah  Pepperfield's  letter,  thrust  it  into 
her  pocket,  and  went  gayly  down  stairs.  An  hour 
later  in  the  twilight,  she  gave  it  to  Jack,  who  straight- 
way hied  him  to  the  post-office  ;  and  the  next  mail 
carried  into  an  editor's  sanctum  a  missive  more  singu- 
lar than  any  one  of  the  remarkable  and  ambiguous 
effusions  continually  arriving  there  for  editorial  .ex- 
amination. Of  its  reception  we  will  tell  later. 

Aunt  Huldah  was  Granty's  sister,  and  in  past 
years  had  been  her  equal  in  position  and  authority 
in  this  their  brother's  household  ;  but,  upon  reaching 
the  age  of  fifty,  she  responded  to  the  affection  of  an 
excellent  widower,  and  became  Mrs.  Pepperfield.  The 
girls  had  been  very  sorry  to  part  with  her.  There 
was  as  much  repose  in  her  nature  as  there  was  rest- 
lessness in  Granty's.  She  always  expected  things 
to  come  out  right,  sang  cheerful  hymns  in  most 
ecstatic  discords,  and  was  always  willing  to  let  "  the 
girls  "  do  any  thing  they  thought  proper.  Her  home 
was  now  near  New- York  City;  and  her  nieces  fre- 
quently made  her  long  visits. 

In  these  days  Hester  finished  the  pictures  of  Mrs. 
and  Mr.  Jerry  Scudder,  to  the  great  satisfaction  of 
the  latter.  During  the  process  of  coloring  he  had 
called  many  times  on  as  many  comical  errands  ;  so 
that  the  young  ladies  became  very  well  acquainted 


AUNT  PEPPERFIEL&S  NIECES.  79 

with  him.  Once  he  brought  a  sample  of  plaid  pop- 
lin, a  bit  of  his  wife's  dress,  to  copy  ;  but  Dorothy 
convinced  him  a  dark,  plain  dress  was  preferable. 
Again,  he  did  not  know  but  his  wife's  relations  might 
"object  to  the  gold  specs,  as  she  never  really  did 
wear  them  :  could  they  be  taken  off  ?  "  On  another 
occasion  .he  had  been  to  a  city  photographer's,  and 
had  seen  "folks  all  sort  of  enveloped  in  a  cloud,"  and 
questioned  whether  he  had  better  be  done  up  in  that 
style,  or  left  with  folded  hands  and  velvet  vest.  He 
decided,  after  looking  again  at  his  seal-ring,  not  to  be 
enveloped,  but  to  have  "  her  finished  up  so,"  because 
it  seemed  "  more  appropriate." 

Hester's  patience,  her  attention,  and  her  answers, 
were  all  in  very  short  metre  ;  but  Dorothy  always 
kindly  invited  Mr.  Scudder  to  sit  down,  and  talk  over 
each  detail  to  his  heart's  content.  He  was  a  clever, 
honest-hearted  man,  with  good  sense  when  one  struck 
it  squarely.  When  the  pictures  were  done,  he  paid 
for  them  promptly,  and  delicately  enough  even  for 
Hester's  p^ride.  The  next  week  he  returned  with 
seven  more  photographs  :  six  were  those  of  his  inter- 
esting family  of  girls  and  boys  taken  singly ;  the 
seventh  was  a  family-group  of  the  whole,  arranged 
like  a  row  of  assorted  ninepins.  All  of  these  he  ear- 
nestly entreated  that  Hester  would  "attend  to  while 
her  paint  and  oil  was  running."  He  also  brought 


80  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

Dorothy  an  enormous  bunch  of  early  summer  flowers, 
of  which  he  talked  appreciatively.  Moreover,  he  told 
her,  rather  in  an  aside  suggestive  of  confidence,  that 
he  remembered  when  she  was  a  "  little  tow-headed 
thing,  riding  around  in  her  uncle's  gig,  and,  if  she 
would  allow  him,  he  would  say  she  had  "  handsomed 
up  considerably  "  since  then.  She  frankly  admitted 
she  was  glad  to  know  it ;  and  she  graciously  thanked 
him  for -inviting  Granty  and  her  to  ride  out  and  see 
his  "place"  some  day.  Indeed,  Granty  and  Dorothy 
were  extremely  social,  and  kept  themselves  more  in 
contact  with  outsiders  than  did  Hester  and  Marion. 
People  thought  Hester  peculiar  and  a  wee  bit  sarcas- 
tic ;  while  Marion  was  to  many  only  "  the  woman 
who  wrote."  They  always  expected  to  ask  her  if  she 
had  read  this  essay,  or  liked  that  author.  They 
secretly  wondered  if  she  would  not  put  them  in  a 
story ;  and  they  never  failed  to  inquire  if  she  was 
"busy  with  her  pen,"  or  to  ask  her  "  how  many  hours 
a  day  she  wrote,  and  if  it  came  easy  for  her." 

One  beautiful  afternoon  the  ladies  were  all  at  home, 
and  sitting  together  in  the  great  cool  hall  that  ran 
directly  through  the  house.  The  front-door  opened 
on  to  a  broad  piazza  overlooking  the  lawn  ;  and  from 
the  door  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  hall  one  could  step 
into  an  arbor  of  roses  and  honeysuckle.  The  floor 
of  the  hall  itself  was  dark,  polished  wood ;  the  chairs 


AUNT  PEPPERFIELD'S  NIECES.  8 1 

ta!l>  Gothic,  and  most  substantial.  A  gay  Chinese 
screen  gave  color  to  the  place  ;  and  high  up  on  the 
dark  red  wall  hung  a  goodly  array  of  ancestors 
(New-England  persons  every  one).  The  ladies,  as 
they  sat  sewing  and  reading  in  the  summer  air  and 
fragrance,  had  no  need  to  be  ashamed  of  these  voice- 
less relatives  in  ruffled  shirts  and  gay  brocades ;  while 
they,  in  turn,  had  they  not  had  eyes  that  saw  not,  — 
they  would  have  looked  approvingly  on  Granty  in  her 
brisk,  genteel  old  ladyhood ;  on  Hester,  whose  eye 
had  the  gleam  of  the  great-uncle  over  her  head 
(whose  surgeon's  knife  was  said  not  to  have  been 
keener  than  his  wit) ;  or  Dorothy,  with  the  genial  face 
of  the  grandmother  renowned  for  her  charming 
tea-parties;  or  Marion,  who  might  have  copied  her 
straight  nose  and  grave  mouth  from  the  pale  minis- 
ter painted  in  his  study-cap,  with  finger  in  a  theo- 
logical tome.  But  speaking  of  ministers  brings  to 
mind  that  Granty  had  just  been  wondering  where 
Mr.  Severn  found  a  boarding-place,  when  voices  were 
heard  coming  near,  and  Marion  murmured,  "The 
Howell  girls  are  coming  !  " 

In  a  moment  two  young  ladies  appeared  in  the 
piazza,  were  greeted  cordially,  and  made  comfortable. 

"  I  am  very  glad  you  have  come  in,"  said  Granty. 
"I  told  Hester  yesterday  that  we  had  not  been  in 
your  house  in  a  long  time,  and  it  was  very  unneigh- 


82  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

borly ;  but  there  is  so  much  to  do  in  the  spring  of 
the  year,  you  know  !  " 

"  Yes,  indeed !  We  have  been  very  busy  our- 
selves," said  the  youngest,  —  Miss  Maude. 

She  was  a  yellow  blonde,  with  an  eye  for  effect. 
Her  jewels  were  barbaric  ;  bits  of  old  gold-colored 
satin  lighted  up  her  black  drapery;  and  she  was 
studying  "art"  at  this  period  of  her  interesting 
existence.  Her  elder  sister,  Miss  Blanche,  was  large 
and  white  and  serene  :  she  intended  to  be.  She 
considered  it  her  life-work  to  take  large,  serene,  and 
sweet  (very  sweet)  views  of  almost  every  thing, 
beginning,  of  course,  at  herself.  She,  too,  responded 
with  gentle  slowness  to  Granty's  words,  saying,  — 

"  Yes,  we  have  been  negligent  ourselves ;  but  we 
have  found  Mr.  Severn  so  interesting !  Sucli  an 
addition  to  our  family,  that  we  have  really  staid  close 
at  home  to  enjoy  him." 

"  Mr.  Who  ?  "  asked  Granty  quickly. 

"Why,  the  new  East-End  minister,"  returned 
Maude,  glad  to  note  that  the  pale-blue  panel  of  the 
Chinese  screen  was  behind  her  golden  hair.  "The 
idea  of  our  taking  a  boarder  is  too  exquisitely  ridicu- 
lous, I  do  admit ;  but  the  poor  man  could  not  find 
any  sort  of  a  home  with  congenial  society.  I  am 
just  perfectly  fascinated  by  him.  Yes,  I  am,  Miss 
Dorothy !  You  need  not  laugh  :  you  would  be  your- 


AUNT  PEPPERFIELD'S  NIECES.  83 

self ; "  and,  with  an  arch  toss  of  her  head,  Miss 
Maude  turned  now  to  Marion,  and  gayly  confided 
this  sentiment :  "  Men  of  heart,  and  at  the  same 
time  of  real  culture,  are  not  so  common.  I  said  to 
mother,  '  Now  we  have  found  one,  do  let  us  befriend 
him.'  You  know  how  it  is,  Miss  Marion.  This  town 
is  full  of  real  lovable  persons  (I  would  not  breathe  a 
word  against  them  for  the  world) ;  but  for  oh  — ah  — 
well,  sympathetic  companionship,  one  must  look  else- 
where. For  instance,  I  have  lately  been  all  swal- 
lowed up  in  Byzantine  art ;  but  goodness  me !  who 
cared  a  straw  about  conversing  with  me  ?  —  Isn't  it 
really  disheartening,  Miss  Hester  ?  " 

"  It  might  be,  if  I  had  to  talk  on  Byzantine  art." 
"  Oh,  you  naughty,  sarcastic  girl !  "  began  Maude  ; 
but   Granty   interposed :    "  I    like   Mr.  Severn   very 
much.     I  would  have  taken  him  in  here  gladly ;  but 
it  was  not  very  convenient." 

"We  had  plenty  of  room,"  remarked  Blanche, 
"and  it  would  have  been  selfish  not  to  have  admitted 
him,  when  we  were  entreated  to  by  some  of  his 
friends.  Mother  dotes  on  clergymen  herself ;  and 
then,  as  sister  says,  it  is  a  pleasure  to  have  such 
people  with  one  socially.  We  asked  him  last  even- 
ing to  read  to  us,  and  he  chose  something  out  of  a 
book  of  selections  on  the  table,  and  he  read  it  so 
finely!  It  was  something  about  —  oh  —  the  trans- 


84  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

migration  of  souls,  I  believe  —  very  uncommon 
style." 

Marion  looked  curious ;  and  Maude  said,  "  It  was 
by  Wordsworth,  Blanche,  was  it  not  ?  " 

"Oh!  'Intimations  of  immortality,"  perhaps,"  said 
Marion,  but  not  before  Granty  was  softly  chanting 
off  on  her  knitting-needles,  — 

"  Our  birth  is  but  a  sleep  and  a  forgetting : 

The  soul  that  rises  with  us,  our  life's  star, 
Hath  had  elsewhere  its  setting, 
And  cometh  from  afar." 

One  would  do  well  who  could  find  poetry  of  that 
kind  that  Granty  could  not  repeat  without  a  slip.. 
Maude  looked  a  little  surprised,  as  she  often  did, 
when  she  discovered  that  what  to  her  was  new  riches 
must  have  always  .been  current  coin  in  this  family. 

"  I  met  Mr.  Severn  once,"  said  Dorothy ;  "  and  he 
seemed  to  me  a  very  kindly  man,  and  a  strong  one 
intellectually." 

"Oh,  he  is  deep!  He  is  just  as  deep  as  he  can 
be,"  solemnly  affirmed  Maude.  "  We  have  not  been 
able  to  speak  of  a  thing  he  did  not  know  about." 

Hester  looked  so  wicked,  that  Dorothy  was  glad 
Blanche  added  immediately,  before  she  could  speak, 
"Yes ;  and  he  is  easy  to  get  along  with  too  ;  not  at 
all  preachy,  or  much  of  a  talker,  either.  I  told  him 


AUNT  PEPPERFIELD'S  NIECES.  85 

all  about  you  last  night,  Marion,  —  what  you  were 
like,  and  all  that,  you  know.  What  are  you  engaged 
on  now  ? " 

"  I  am  making  the  belt  to  a  cambric  morning- 
dress." 

"  Dearie  me ! "  put  in  Maude.  "  She  means  your 
literary  work.  Now,  how  do  you  carry  it  on,  tell  us, 
please  ?  Do  you  sit  up  half  the  night,  drink  strong 
coffee,  get  more  and  more  wrought  up,  go  to  bed 
toward  daylight,  with  your  brains  throbbing  and  wild 
visions  careering  "  — 

"Nothing  careers  in  this  house  at  night,"  laughed 
Marion,  "  unless  it  is  Granty.  She  arises  often  to 
add  some  new  dish  to  the  bill  of  fare  for  breakfast. 
The  rest  of  us  go  to  bed  at  ten  o'clock.  I  drink  my 
coffee  in  the  morning ;  I  write  by  sunlight ;  and  I 
never  have  throbs  or  visions,  or  any  remarkable 
manifestations  at  all." 

Maude  surveyed  the  lady  with  abated  interest. 
Evidently  she  had  no  genius,  or  she  would  have  had 
an  eccentricity  or  two. 

Blanche,  studying  the  blush  rose  in  the  bosom  of 
her  white  dress,  asserted  with  a  tender  smile,  "  I 
often  think  I  will  take  up  authorship ;  but  I  should 
fail  in  the  drudgery  of  copying,  and  all  that.  My 
graduating  composition  was  read  by  a  gentleman 
who  said  I  ought  to  send  it  to  'The  Atlantic  Month- 


86  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

ly.'  It  was  on  'The  Heart's  True  Penetralia.'"  I 
don't  think  my  gift  would  lie  so  much  in  story-writ 
ing  as  in  essays  like  Macaulay's.  It  is  a  great  field, 
a  vast  field  !  " 

"Whose  field?"  said  Granty  suddenly.  Having 
lost  a  few  stitches  off  her  needle,  she  had  also  lost 
the  run  of  Blanche's  remark. 

"  Literature,  Granty,  literature,"  said  Dorothy, 
adding,  "  How  is  your  sister  Molly  ?  She  does  not 
come  to  see  us  as  often  as  she  used  to  come  when 
uncle  Jack  was  alive." 

"  She  has  been  busy  sewing.  Mother  would  prefer 
to  have  our  work  done  out  of  the  house ;  but  Molly 
likes  to  sew  better  than  to  read.  Who  makes  your 
dresses,  Miss  Marion  ? " 

"I  make  them  myself." 

"  You  don't  tell  me  so  !  Why,  I  never  supposed 
you  ever  set  a  stitch,  or  did  any  thing  but  read  or 
write." 

Marion  sighed  with  calm  resignation.  Almost 
three  hundred  and  sixty-five  times  each  year,  for  ten 
years,  some  acquaintance  had  made  this  speech  to 
her.  After  refuting  it  three  thousand  six  hundred  and 
fifty  times  as  a  sort  of  personal  insult,  she  succumbed ; 
and  now  she  let  people  go  on  supposing  that  a  pen 
in  a  woman's  hand  acts  as  a  complete  paralyzer  of 
her  whole  being;  that  she  could  not  sew  two  fig- 


AUNT  PEPPERFIELD'S  NIECES.  87 

leaves  together,  if  her  costume  depended  on  it ; 
could  not  cook  a  mouthful  of  food,  if  she  starved  ; 
could  not  give  a  dose  of  medicine,  or  wash  a  baby's 
face,  or  —  be  any  thing,  in  short,  but  a  penholder. 

"  Well,"  said  Dorothy,  "  if  you  want  to  be  enlight- 
ened, I  can  tell  you,  that,  when  Marion  wants  a  new 
dress,  she  does  not  ask  anybody's  leave  or  license. 
She  goes  out  and  buys  it  with  her  own  money  ;  then 
she  gets  the  latest  fashion-book,  and  makes  fun  of  it ; 
next  she  studies  some  stylish  friend's  attire,  —  some 
one  whose  taste  she  approves  (often  yours  or 
Blanche's)  ;  then  she  cuts  boldly  into  her  cloth,  and 
comes  out  looking  as  well  as  anybody." 

"  Well,  I  am  astonished  !  "  exclaimed  Maude ;  and 
then  she  gave  her  attention  to  Hester,  of  whom  she 
was  always  a  trifle  afraid,  but  therefore  desired  all 
the  more  to  study  her  nature  and  habits.  In  a  little 
while,  with  the  hesitant  affability  of  one  offering  an 
elephant  a  tit-bit,  she  said  tentatively,  "And  you, 
Miss  Hester, — you  find  art  so  fascinating!  You 
love  it,  don't  you  ? " 

"I  don't  know  any  thing  about  it,"  returned  Hes- 
ter grimly.  Little  affectations  always  made  her  as 
stiff  as  a  grenadier. 

"  Why,  I  thought  you  painted,  and  read  Ruskin 
and  —  and  Mrs.  Jameson,  and"  — 

Hester,  in  the  most  cold-blooded  manner,  let  Maude 


88  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

come  to  nought  trying  to  explain  herself,  and  Doro- 
thy dared  not  interpose. 

For  art  as  Maude  prattled  of  it  for  effect,  Hester 
cared  nothing ;  and  for  art  as  Hester  herself  rever- 
enced it,  she  could  make  no  talk,  because  she  realized 
that  she  actually  knew  little  or  nothing  of  it,  but 
only  hoped  to,  hereafter.  • 

It  was  a  relief  when  Granty  returned  to  Mr.  Sev- 
ern, and  started  the  young  ladies  off  again  in  a  con- 
versation on  his  fine  qualities.  They  discoursed 
eloquently  until  it  was  time  for  them  to  go  home ; 
then  Maude  begged  for  something  to  read.  With 
many  bewitching  flourishes  about  the  tall  old  book- 
case she  extracted  a  copy  of  "  Sakoontala,"  which  she 
fancied,  from  something  Marion  said,  was  in  some  way 
remarkable.  "  They  always  do  get  the  newest  books 
that  are  the  best,"  she  reflected  ;  and  so,  arousing  her 
languid  sister,  she  went  home  with  a  story  a  few  thou- 
sand years  old  tucked  under  her  ruffled  elbow-sleeve. 

"  What  makes  you  so  sort  of  savage  toward  those 
girls  ? "  asked  Granty  of  Hester.  "  I  don't  see  any 
thing  amiss.  I  am  sure  they  seem  to  want  to  be  very 
intellectual." 

"No:  you  mean  they  want  to  seem  to  be  very 
intellectual,  and  that  is  just  the  matter  with  them, 
Granty.  If  they  took  half  the  trouble  to  be  genuine 
that  they  do  to  be  humbugs,  they  would  be  all  right. 


AUNT  PEPPERFIELD'S  NIECES.  89 

Now,  when  they  hear  of  a  new  book,  they  buy  and 
read  it,  if  they  can,  but  reviews  of  it  at  all  events ; 
then  they  leave  it  open  on  the  sofa,  and  entrap  call- 
ers into  speaking  of  it :  so  they  can  air  their  borrowed 
ideas.  It  makes  them  bores.  There  is  their  sister 
Molly  :  I  like  her  very  much.  She  is  so  perfectly 
natural  and  truthful  to  herself,  that  she  is  refreshing 
to  talk  with,  and  seems  original  when  she  never 
dreams  of  being  so.  Maude  was  showing  me  an  ex- 
quisitely illustrated  copy  of  "  The  Marble  Faun " 
one  day  when  I  was  in  there,  and  having  raptures 
over  it.  Molly  coolly  declared  she  had  been  three 
weeks  trying  to  read  it,  and  was  not  one  bit  interested. 
If  Donatello  was  a  creature  with  furry  ears,  why  not 
say  so ;  and,  if  he  was  not,  what  was  the  use  of  sug- 
gesting that  maybe  he  was  :  anyway  the  book  bored 
her.  Maude  was  shocked,  because  she  knew  I  had 
said  what  I  thought  only  a  little  while  before ;  but 
Molly  did  not  care  for  that.  They  keep  their  poor 
mother  strained  up  to  such  a  pitch  of  would-be  intel- 
lectuality it  is  harrowing  to  behold  ;  and  she,  in  turn, 
tries  to  tone  up  poor  Mr.  Howell." 

"  Yes,"  laughed  Marion  :  "one  winter  she  read  him 
'  Paradise  Lost '  every  evening.  One  night  toward 
spring  he  rebelled ;  but  she  said,  '  Have  patience,  do 
Jacob  !  We  have  got  over  the  worst  ©f  it.'  But  we 
will  not  talk  about  our  neighbors.  They  are  sweet- 


90  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

tempered,  pretty  girls,  and  they  will  'get  over '  their 
art  and  their  artifices." 

"  Yes,"  continued  Granty,  "  they  are  a  nice  clever 
family.  Mrs.  Howell  is  a  splendid  housekeeper,  and 
the  minister  could  not  have  a  better  boarding-place. 
I  am  glad  he  is  over  there." 

"  So  am  I,"  said  Marion  innocently. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  Letter  Aunt  Huldah  did  not  get. 

MR.  WINTHROP  CRAIG  sat  solitary  in  the  in- 
nermost editorial  room  of  "The  Phoenix"  office. 
In  an  outer  room  the  associate  editor  was  blandly, 
firmly  refusing  the  manuscript  of  a  persistent  woman, 
whose  earnest  conviction  it  was  that  he  was  blind  to 
the  interests  of  his  journal  in  not  accepting  her 
"  Parallel  between  Spenser  and  Tennyson,  with  Quo- 
tations from  Each."  She  was  insisting  on  seeing 
"  Mr.  Craig  himself  "  as  an  ultimate  authority,  and 
the  calm  associate  would  not  let  her.  The  former 
gentleman,  secure  in  his  retreat,  was  running  over 
manuscript  after  manuscript,  thrusting  each  into 
some  pigeon-hole  as  he  finished  it ;  then  he  began  on 
a  pile  of  letters,  reading  them  with  the  same  expres- 
sion of  patient  continuance  in  well-doing. 

The  fourth,  being  opened,  disclosed  eight  neatly- 
written  pages.  Too  long  by  far  for  a  business- 
epistle,  it  must  have  been  meant  for  publication ;  bjut 
it  was  written  on  each  side  of  every  page,  as  Mr. 

9» 


92  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

Craig  noted  with  disapproval.  He  smoothed  it  out, 
turned  to  the  first  sheet,  and,  behold,  it  was  a  letter ! 
A  letter  to  him  ?  He  glanced  at  the  first  four  words, 
then  in  amazement  turned  back  to  the  envelope. 
Yes,  it  was  to  him.  He  looked  to  the  end ;  but  no 
name  was  there.  He  returned  to  the  four  words, 
"  You  dear,  neglected  creature  !  " 

Now,  the  courteous  and  dignified  editor-in-chief  of 
a  first-class  journal  devoted  to  art,  literature,  and 
science,  may  sometimes,  in  a  purely  unprofessional 
fashion,  feel  himself  socially,  or  in  some  tenderer 
wise,  a  dear,  neglected  creature  ;  but  it  is  not  when 
seated  in  his  editorial  chair,  by  any  manner  of  means. 
Mr.  Craig's  black  eyebrows  met,  and  formed  almost 
a  fierce  horizontal  bar.  Again  he  went  back  to  the 
last  page,  and  discovered,  travelling  straight  up  one 
side  of  the  paper,  in  a  truly  feminine  way,  the  words, 
"Your  loving  niece."  Niece!  His  only  brother 
died  aged  six,  his  one  sister  a  year  later,  she  being 
ten  years  old.  It  was  plainly  impossible  for  any 
niece,  no  matter  how  long  lost,  to  arise  and  call  him 
uncle.  Somebody's  else  niece  was  writing  to  some 
other  uncle.  The  letter,  by  some  inexplicable  mis- 
take, had  come  to  him.  If  it  were  ever  to  reach  its 
destination,  he  must  read  it.  To  throw  it  into  his 
waste-basket  might  be  to  bury  forever  some  tidings 
of  weighty  import.  The  handwriting  was  firm  and 


THE  LETTER  AUNT  HULDAH  DID  NOT  GET.     93 

well  formed.  The  punctuation  and  paragraphing 
were  as  in  some  article  designed  for  print.  With  the 
reflection  that  the  "  loving  niece  "  was  used  to  a  pen, 
Mr.  Craig  began  the  perusal  of  the  letter. 

YOU     DEAR,     NEGLECTED     CREATURE,  —  It   is    tOO    unkind 

that  we  have  kept  you  so  long  without  news  from —  The  Spin- 
sterage,  as  I  want  to  call  our  home ;  but  Hester  proposes  it 
should  be  Happy-Go-Lncky  Lodge.  This,  however,  is  not  dig- 
nified enough  to  please  Granty.  Of  course  you  want  to  know 
first  of  her  welfare,  and  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  she  was  never 
better.  Often  I  think  there  is  vitality  enough  in  her  to  stock 
six  lively  little  old  ladies.  She  gave  us  a  great  fright  this 
morning  by  slipping  on  a  bit  of  paper,  and  bumping  her  head 
against  the  door.  We  bathed  it  with  arnica,  and  put  her  to 
bed,  because  her  eyes  ached,  and  her  spine  felt  queerly,  also  the 
back  of  her  head.  Hester  had  been  reading  one  of  uncle  Jack's- 
books,  and  said  cerebro-spinal  meningitis  began  in  that  way. 
However,  when  Jack  came  in  and  told  her  that  Mrs.  Wells  was 
in  town  for  a  day  or  two,  she  arose,  and  took  Dorothy  out  for 
an  afternoon  of  formal  calls.  Dorothy  is  as  busy  as  ever.  I 
do  not  know  how  we  could  have  gotten  along  after  uncle's 
death  without  her.  His  patients  were  scattered  all  over  the 
country,  you  know ;  his  bills  were  of  years'  standing,  and  some- 
times his  accounts  very  hard  to  make  up.  We  tried  our  best 
to  help  her.  Hester  spent  a  week  making  out  two  bills.  One 
was  for  an  old  lady  who  had  chronic  rheumatism.  She  always 
used  to  make  uncle  take  his  electric  machine,  and  give  her 
"shocks."  The  other  bill  was  against  an  old  bachelor  who  had 
had  cataracts  taken  off  his  eyes,  with  long  preliminary  treat- 
ment for  other  infirmities.  Of  course,  when  uncle  had  per- 
formed special  operations,  he  had  charged  accordingly,  and 


94  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

entered  it  in  his  day-book ;  but  Hester  mixed  those  two  bills 
up  in  the  most  extraordinary  manner.  They  were  sent  in  ;  and 
both  the  old  lady  and  the  old  gentleman  were  hopping  with  indig- 
nation. He  was  charged  for  an  amount  of  electricity  he  declared 
he  had  never  received ;  and  she  was  shocked  more  severely 
than  by  any  battery  to  learn  that  her  eyes  were  put  down  (as 
Hester  said)  in  uncle's  books  as  "  about  sightless."  The  amount 
charged  each  was  incorrect,  of  course ;  and  such  a  time  as  we 
had  getting  it  all  straightened  !  To  this  day,  I  believe  the 
grumpy  old  fellow  thinks  he  paid  for  remedies  she  took ;  and 
she  imagines  that  she  bore  the  expenses  of  his  ophthalmic 
operations,  although  neither  paid  half  they  owed.  Dorothy  has 
never  asked  for  help  since  then.  She  does  get  along  so  beauti- 
fully with  all  kinds  of  people,  however,  that  she  never  makes 
enemies,  even  when  stiffly  maintaining  her  rights.  Young  men 
and  widowers  admire  her  as  much  as  ever;  while  Hester  and  I 
have  no  "  followers  whatever,"  as  Bridget  O'Flarity  sympathet- 
ically remarks.  Bridget  has  gone  to  a  wedding  to-day.  It  is 
just  as  it  used  to  be  when  you  were  here.  Granty  humors  our 
servant-girls  until  they  soon  get  to  be  like  death,  and  have, — 
"all  seasons  for  their  own." 

"  I  am  writing  very  steadily  now,  because  I  am  doing  it  with 
a  purpose,  —  the  definite  one  of  earning  my  bread  and  jelly; 
although  Hester  says  we  shall  never  lack  it  while  we  live  with 
Granty.  She  is  so  thoroughly  pious,  the  Lord  will  provide  for 
her;  and  she  is  so  particular,  he  will  know  she  must  have  plenty, 
or  she  will  not  understand  why.  I  believe  Hester  is  right,  for 
Granty  is  a  wonderfully  good  little  woman.  No  matter  how 
busy  we  are,  she  calls  every  one  of  us  together  in  the  morning, 
reads  from  the  Bible,  and  prays  like  an  inspired  Quakeress. 
Have  you  never  noticed  what  full,  strong,  beautifully  expressed 
prayers  hers  always  are,  and  so  often  in  the  finest  Scripture 
language,  as  if  that  came  first,  and  was  to  her  most  sincere  ? 


THE  LETTER  AUNT  HULDAH  DID  NOT  GET.     95 

"When  it  comes  to  household  matters,  as  Thomas  a  Kempis 
says,  "what"  she  is  "that"  she  is,  "and  cannot  be  another." 
We  tried  to  enforce  upon  her  daily  lessons  of  economy.  We  held 
a  council,  and  decided  she  must  conform  more  to  circumstances. 
The  week  after,  we  held  another,  and  resolved  to  make  circum- 
stances conform  to  her :  it  was  the  easiest  way.  She  must  live 
in  a  generous  way,  and  have  plenty  to  send  to  sick  ministers, 
poor  neighbors,  and  so  on ;  then  you  know  it  is  a  necessity  of 
her  nature  to  give  tea-parties  on  the  slightest  provocation,  or 
none  at  all. 

"  Do  you  think  we  could  tell  her  she  shall  not  give  as  liberally 
as  ever  to  send  Christian  almanacs  to  every  latitude  ?  No :  we 
bound  ourselves  never  to  "  pester  "  that  dear  little  New-England 
lady  with  economy  as  long  as  she  lives,  and  we  will  not.  Hester 
paints  more  than  ever  nowadays:  she  has  quite  a  studio. 
There  is  a  fashion,  you  know,  for  panel  pictures,  —  lilies,  bird- 
nests,  wild  flowers,  cat-tails,  and  little  studies  of  this  sort:  she 
paints  these  exquisitely.  However,  the  domestic  wheel  would 
never  revolve  if  Dorothy  were  not  at  the  hub. 

"  You  ask  about  little  Jack  in  your  last  letter.  O  dear  aunt 
Huldah !  How  shall  we  ever  bring  up  a  boy  ?  He  has  the 
manners  of  a  small  savage,  with  the  heart  of  a  wee  gentleman. 
Once  a  day  Granty  says,  "  Spare  the  rod,  and  spoil  the  child  ;  " 
then  Hester  cuts  a  switch,  and  rings  the  dinner-bell,  which  is  the 
signal  Jack  is  wanted.  Before  he  gets  here,  Granty  remembers 
he  is  a  peculiar  child,  and  cannot  be  dealt  with  severely :  so 
he  only  asks  about  the  switch  with  innocent  interest,  and  gets 
a  "  turn-over"  Bridget  has  baked  for  him.  We  are  all  through 
house-cleaning,  and  the  old  home  never  looked  prettier.  I  must 
be  getting  old-fashioned  myself ;  for  our  rooms  grow  more  at- 
tractive to  me  every  year.  I  used  to  think  the  solid  tables  and 
great  chairs  were  heavy ;  but  I  like  it  all  now,  —  the  great  and- 


96  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

irons,  the  rugs,  fire-screens,  and  queer  china  on  the  sideboards. 
Hester  says  it  is  only  because  we  are  coming  back  into  the 
latest  fashion.  Well,  I  often  wonder  if  three  girls  ever  came 
up  in  a  cosier  corner  of  the  earth  than  we  did  in  ours.  How 
Granty  used  to  worry  because  I  would  not  practise  "The  White 
Cockade,"  and  be  "  musical,"  but  would  hide  in  the  trees  to 
read  "  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield  "  !  Do  you  remember  the  time 
uncle  Jack  let  Hester  stay  out  of  school  to  paint  a  landscape, 
with  three  dreadful  Zouaves  in  firemen's  breeches,  on  the  inside 
of  the  barn-door?  We  do  not  miss  uncle  Jack  less,  as  the  days 
go  by,  in  many  ways  :  in  others  we  do.  A  heavy  step  now  in 
the  hall  does  not  make  me  expect  his  hearty  laugh,  or  the  frolic 
with  Jack.  When  I  look  down  the  shaded  street,  and  see  a 
broad-shouldered  old  man  coming,  I  have  ceased  to  think  it  is 
he.  I  am  getting  used  to  the  thought  that  he  can  never  come 
in  jesting,  or  come  in  weary,  or  come  any  way  at  all.  But,  while 
there  is  any  home  here,  he  is  in  one  way  within  it,  and  always 
will  be.  It  is  curious  how  we  regulate  things  by  his  ideas. 
Hester  is  never  sharp  to  his  tedious  old  women  who  come  for 
medicine  yet :  she  lets  them  waste  her  time,  and  Dorothy  makes 
them  tea.  We  are  never  tempted  to  be  short-suffering  or 
uncharitable  ;  but  we  remember  how  comically  gentle  he  was  to 
everybody  weak,  or  ignorant,  or  lacking,  how  he  was  "  patient 
with  fools."  A  little  corner  of  his  big  mantle  even  seems  to 
rest  on  little  Jack.  He  brings  all  the  lame  dogs  in  the  street 
to  Hester  to  doctor. 

"  But  dearie  me,  what  a  letter  this  is  !  Jack  told  me  somebody 
said  to  him  recently,  "  If  your  aunt  Marion  is  an  authoress,  her 
conversation  must  be  improving."  He  answered  that  may  be 
it  was  improving;  but  he  did  not  know  any  thing  had  ailed  it. 
Something  "  ails  "  this  letter,  —  a  very  great  lack  of  connection  ; 
but  you  will  not  be  critical.  You  are  a  precious,  good-natured 
old  lady.  ["  Am  I,  though  ?  "  ejaculated  Mr.  Craig.] 


THE  LETTER  AUNT  HULDAH  DID  NOT  GET.      97 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  much  that  is  new ;  but  there  is  a  fine  min- 
ister, I  have  heard,  settled  over  the  old  First  Church.  He 
boards  at  the  Howells's  across  the  road:  Granty  has  met  him, 
and  Dorothy  also.  Oh  !  I  send  you  a  photograph  of  myself, 
taken  not  long  ago,  not  very  good.  When  are  you  coming  for 
your  summer  visit  ?  I  must  tell  you  that  Hester  has  bought  a 
cowj  and  we  fear  that  much  learning,  from  reading  works  bear- 
ing on  the  care  of  that  domestic  animal,  has  made  her  mad. 
She  announced  yesterday  that  good  authorities  advocated  the 
milking  of  cows  three  times  a  day.  Granty  said  never  while 
she  lived  should  such  a  thing  be  clone.  If  she  had  no  regard 
for  the  cow,  she  had  too  much  self-respect  to  experiment  in  a 
way  that  looked  so  outrageously  mean.  The  supper-bell  is 
ringing  !  I  embrace  you,  as  the  French  say.  Good-by. 

Your  loving  niece, 

MARION. 

"Phew!"  exclaimed  the  editor  of  "The  Phoenix." 
"You  embrace  me,  do  you!  And  I  —  I  cannot  tell 
you  how  to  bring  up  Jack,  or  even  advise  you  about 
Hester's  cow  !  I  "  — 

Out  dropped  the  photograph,  and  Mr.  Craig  rescued 
it  promptly  from  the  floor.  The  associate-editor  put 
his  head  in  the  door,  and  asked  a  question.  The 
chief  composed  himself,  but  did  not  look  around 
until  the  head  was  removed. 

If  Marion,,  as  she  sat  that  day  at  dinner,  serenely 
pouring  cream  over  her  strawberries,  could  have 
beheld  this  scene  in  the  distant  city !  —  Her  letter 
under  the  broad  palm  of  a  total  stranger ;  her 


98  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

photograph,  for  the  moment,  poised  on  a  horrid 
inkstand,  in  the  shape  of  a  horned  toad,  while  the 
stranger  carefully  studied  it  (the  face,  not  the  toad) 
with  the  eye  of  a  phrenologist. 

"Fine  head,"  he  murmured,  "about  twenty-five 
I  presume  —  good  nose  and  chin  —  forehead  of  a 
woman  with  ideas  —  looks  too  grave  to  have  written 
the  letter — should  have  thought  her  style  would 
have  been  grave  to  melancholy.  No  !  there  is  life 
enough  in  the  eyes.  Well,  my  loving  niece,  what 
the  deuse  shall  I  do  with  you  and  with  your  revela- 
tion of  domestic  affairs  !  I  wish  I  knew  the  way  to 
your  Happy-Go-Lucky  Lodge  !  It  must  be  a  merry 
old  place,  with  so  many  funny  women  in  it ;  but  I 
cannot  return  your  letter." 

He  folded  it  carefully  again,  the  photograph  in 'it, 
and  laid  it  away  in  a  private  drawer.  A  few  moments 
later,  and  he  was  in  the  midst  of  his  professional 
cares  again,  had  forgotten  the  letter,  and  was  only 
dimly  conscious  that  the  editor  in  the  outer  room 
was  metaphorically  wrestjing  with  a  gentleman, 
whose  article,  if  only  it  could  be  published,  would 
be  a  death-blow  to  Herbert  Spencer.  The  obtuse 
editor,  having  himself  no  designs  on  the  latter's  life, 
would  not  be  persuaded  to  take  the  fatal  article  in 
charge. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

Jack  makes  a  Friend. 

ONE  day  there  came  a  letter  from  aunt  Huldah. 
Dorothy  opened  and  read  it  to  the  family.     It 
began  thus  :  — 

DEAR  ONES  ALL,  —  I  do  not  see  what  makes  you  so  very 
long  silent.  If  it  were  not  such  an  effort  for  me  to  write  letters, 
I  should  have  written  before  to  know  if  any  thing  was  the  mat- 
ter. ["  The  unreasonable  old  lady  !  "  interposed  Marion.  "  I 
wrote  her  an  endless  amount  of  family  matters."]  Mr.  Pepper- 
field  has  not  been  well  this  summer,  but  is  now.  I  have  been 
busy  all  the  time,  and  now  want  a  play-spell.  I  want  to  see  you 
all,  and  write  to  propose  something  which  I  hope  will  be  agreea- 
ble. What  would  Marion  say  to  coming  to  Ingleside  and 
staying  a  few  weeks,  while  I  go  and  visit  you  ?  I  cannot  leave 
poor  Pepperfield  alone  with  the  servants,  and  Marion  might 
enjoy  the  change.  She  will  have  nothing  to  do,  but  to  pour 
his  coffee,  and  to  see  that  the  girls  do  not  break  my  new  deco- 
rated china.  She  can  write  without  interruption  ;  and  we  have 
pleasant  neighbors,  if  she  wishes  company.  She  might  bring 
Jack  with  her :  he  can  roam  the  woods  with  her.  Write  and 
tell  me  if  she  will  come :  if  so,  and  you  wish  me,  shall  I  do 
any  shopping  for  you  in  the  city  ?  I  shall  go  in  soon. 

Your  affectionate  aunt, 

HULDAH  PEPPERFIELD. 

99 


100  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

"  Go  by  all  means,  Marion  !  "  said  Granty  briskly. 
"  It  will  do  you  good,  and  I  want  to  see  Huldah  very 
much.  If  I  were  in  your  place,  I  would  go  right  off 
this  week.  Is  there  any  thing  to  hinder  ?  " 

The  old  lady  liked  changes  and  excitement  of  this 
sort.  Marion  knew  at  once  she  had  best  go  ;  but 
fortunately  the  plan  had  nothing  disagreeable  about 
it :  so  she  answered,  "  I  will  go  next  Tuesday." 

"  And  I,"  said  Granty,  "  shall  sit  right  down,  and 
write  to  Huldah  to  come  at  once.  She  can  leave  Mr. 
Pepperfield  over  Sunday  alone,  I  am  sure.  And  now, 
girls,  we  have  so  much  to  do  !  " 

She  began  to  tell  them  what  this  "  much  "  was  ; 
and  Hester,  after  hearing,  went  to  her  studio,  and 
turned  all  the  half-painted  Scudders  with  their  faces 
to  the  wall.  She  could  not  paint  for  several  days  to 
come. 

One  uninitiated  into  Granty's  modes  of  procedure 
might  not  have  understood  why  the  coming  of  one 
woman  and  the  going  of  another  necessitated  the 
turning  wrong  side  out  of  all  the  closets,  and  the  air- 
ing of  innumerable  clothes  on  ropes  in  the  backyard, 
why  the  woodshed-roof  must  be  at  once  shingled,  and 
all  odd  jobs,  in  season  and  out,  attended  to  with  as 
much  precipitancy  as  if  placid  aunt  Huldah  were  an 
investigating  committee  of  some  sort ;  but  so  it  was, 
and  the  next  few  days  were  busy  ones.  The  lawn 


JACK  MAKES  A   FRIEND.  101 

was  shaved,  the  cistern  cleaned  out.  Dorothy  pre- 
served fruit,  and  Marion  made  a  travelling-dress. 
Hester  continued  her  course  of  reading  on  cows,  and 
talked  with  neighbors  in  regard  to  keeping  hens. 
Milk  had  naturally  suggested  eggs ;  and  Pete,  who 
had  a  turn  for  architecture,  wished  to  build  a  hen- 
house in  his  hours  of  ease.  Granty  pervaded  the 
entire  premises  with  the  alacrity  of  a  wilful  breeze 
that  has  a  good  deal  -to  do,  and  does  not  mind  in  the 
least  whom  it  ruffles,  or  what  it  displaces,  as  it  goes 
its  way.  She  kept  them  all  busy  until  afternoon  each 
day ;  then  she  stepped  into  the  phaeton,  and,  with 
one  of  them  for  a  companion,  took  the  air.  Old 
Mortality  would  meander  over  the  surrounding  coun- 
try, sometimes  stopping,  apparently  better  to  hear 
the  conversation,  and  always  agitating  her  mind 
more  or  less,  as  to  which  of  his  legs,  "fore  or  aft," 
were  the  weak  ones.  Two  of  them  must  be ;  else 
why  did  he,  ever  and  anon,  seem  inclined  to  kneel 
reverently  with  his  front  ones,  or  to  sit  serenely  down 
in  the  rear. 

Well,  one  evening  a  little  later  in  the  week,  aunt 
Huldah  arrived.  She  bustled  in,  and  was  not  tired, 
but  found  the  cool  supper-room  "delightful."  She 
had  not  been  hungry  ;  but  the  hot  biscuit  were  "  de- 
licious." So  she  ate  and  drank  and  chatted.  She 
let  Jack  drag  in  her  trunk  then,  and  hint  that  it  had 


102  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

better  be  opened.  This  being  done,  she  produced  a 
new  dress  all  around,  a  white  cap  for  Granty,  a  bow 
and  arrows  for  Jack,  even  a  gorgeous  pin  and  ear- 
rings for  Miss  O'Flarity.  She  made  Hester  tell  her 
what  she  was  painting,  and  instructed  Marion  how 
to  make  the  forsaken  Pepperfield  happy  in  her  ab- 
sence. She  listened  eagerly  to  Granty,  and  heard 
portions  of  Jack's  harrowing  tale  of  how  Buttercup 
would  have  been  choked  on  a  turnip,  had  not  Bridget 
gone  down  her  throat  after  it  as  far  as  her  (Bridget's) 
armpit.  In  short,  aunt  Huldah  was  one  of  them,  and 
therefore  was  soon  at  home. 

It  began  to  rain  Saturday,  and  rained  until  Tues- 
day morning ;  then  the  sun  shone  out  gloriously,  and 
all  the  family  were  actively  interested  in  getting 
Marion  started.  Granty  would  never  allow  one  of 
them  to  travel  without  a  lunch  ;  for  all  the  "  food  at 
stations  was  unwholesome  : "  so  Marion  had  one  put 
up  for  her  large  enough  for  a  man  of  an  "  unbounded 
stomach,"  to  say  nothing  of  a  woman  with  a  little 
boy.  Then,  although  Marion  was  never  ill  in  her  life, 
Granty  would  not  be  gainsaid,  but,  with  Hester's 
help,  put  up  a  compressed  apothecary's  shop  for 
her,  —  camphor,  brandy,  laudanum,  aconite,  Jamaica 
ginger,  —  and  was  going  right  on,  when  Marion 
entreated  her  to  desist.  Did  they  wish  to  have  her, 
in  case  of  an  accident,  published  as  a  vender  of 
quack  medicine  ? 


JACK  MAKES  A   FRIEND.  103 

"  Now,  my  child,  don't  hurry  to  get  on  or  off  while 
the  cars  are  in  motion,  and  do  be  careful  of  yourself," 
said  Granty,  when  Marion,  having  locked  her  trunk, 
sat  down  to  draw  on  the  pretty  gray  gloves  that 
matched  her  dress  so  well.  "And  write  as  soon  as 
you  get  there  !  If  you  get  sick,  send  for  some  of  us 
right  away,"  continued  the  old  lady.  "  You  know 
you  are  naturally  heedless.  —  Is  there  any  malaria  in 
Ingleside,  Huldah?" 

"I  don't  know  of  any,"  answered  that  lady  placidly. 

"  And  Jack,  —  oh,  dear  !  I  feel  dreadfully  about  that 
child's  going!  Have  you  got  the  gargle  for  his 
throat,  in  case  he  needs  it  ? " 

"Yes,  Granty." 

"And  his  thick  flannel  shirts,  if  it  should  get 
cold  ? " 

"  Yes,  every  thing  of  the  sort." 

"  You  will  see  that  he  doesn't  run  the  streets  on 
Sunday  ?  " 

"Why,  of  course,  Granty." 

"  He  never  has  had  the  scarlet-fever,"  she  re- 
marked suggestively. 

"  Perhaps  I  might  get  him  exposed  to  it,"  answered 
Marion  roguishly. 

"  Oh,  no  !  not  for  any  thing,  Marion  !  And  you 
won't  get  absorbed  in  your  writing,  and  let  him 
get  out  on  the  roof  to  play,  or  go  following  fire- 


104  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

engines  to  the  water,  and  be  drowned,  will  you  ?  I 
have  always  expected  that  he  would  some  day  go 
where  they  are  blasting  rocks,  and  be  blown  all  to 
pieces.  I  try,  when  he  is  at  home,  to  keep  these 
things  in  my  mind." 

"  I  promise  you,  Granty,  to  take  the  best  kind  of 
care  of  him,"  returned  Marion. 

She  sank  into  silence,  but  awoke  again,  to  add, 
"  If  you  put  him  at  the  back  side  of  a  bed,  he  will 
throw  all  the  clothes  off,  and  take  his  death  of  cold." 

"Then  I  will  not  put  him  there." 

"  But,  if  he  lies  in  the  front,  he  will  surely  tumble 
out.  Oh,  I  don't  know  how  you  ever  will  get  along 
with  him  anyway !  You  mark  my  words  for  it,  if 
he  eats  cheese  or  smoked  halibut  for  his  supper,  he 
will  talk  all  night." 

"  Take  good  care  of  my  husband,"  interposed 
aunt  Huldah. 

"  Carriage  at  the  gate !  "  shouted  Jack,  who  looked 
like  a  sweet  little  dandy  in  a  new  suit  of  navy-blue, 
and  a  sailor  hat. 

"  I  do  hope  this  long  storm  has  not  made  trouble 
on  the  railroad,"  was  Granty's  last  exclamation ;  but 
the  driver  cut  the  good-bys  short,  and  whirled  the 
travellers  away  to  the  station.  The  first  part  of  their 
journey  was  uneventful.  They  rode  in  a  drawing-room 
car  until  three  in  the  afternoon ;  and  all  the  pas- 


JACK  MAKES  A   FRIEND.  105 

sengers  were  so  uniformly  genteel  and  monotonously 
well-behaved,  Jack  would  have  found  it  dull,  but  for 
the  luncheon  and  the  ice-cream  bought  him,  under 
protest,  by  Marion.  What  if  the  colored  man  did 
take  it  from  car  to  car,  with  the  coal-dust  flying  over 
it,  and,  it  may  be,  do  strange,  unlawful  things  to  it 
in  the  mysterious  regions  from  whence  he  bore  it 
hither  ?  It  looked  clean,  Jack  argued.  At  three 
o'clock  they  changed  trains,  and,  getting  into  a 
common  car,  were  more  entertained.  Here  their 
fellow-creatures  were  like  needles  in  a  paper,  — 
well  assorted.  A  happy  Dutchman,  who  looked 
like  a  priest,  but  needs  must  have  been  a  married 
man,  sat  across  from  them,  with  his  stolid  frau  and 
three  younglings.  One  of  these  was  a  boy,  who  ate 
Bologna  sausages  and  drank  beer  from  a  basket  that 
must  have  connected,  in  some  unseen  manner,  with 
a  grocery,  and  continually  replenished ;  for  out  of  it 
the  second,  a  snarling  girl,  drew  gingerbread  baked 
in  pie-crust,  while  baby  (very  unpleasant  to  look 
upon)  was  supplied  with  unlimited  milk.  Even 
the  parents  occasionally  stirred  up  odors  of  garlic 
and  unfamiliar  cheese  from  the  same  repository. 
In  front  of  Marion  was  a  gentleman  absorbed  in 
a  newspaper.  His  shoulders  were  broad,  his  over- 
coat handsome.  The  back  of  his  head  being  covered 
with  abundant  and  somewhat  curly  hair,  Jack  sig- 


106  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

nified  his  intention  of  giving  it  "a  little  twist,  you 
know  ; "  for  what  purpose  only  a  boy  could  have  told. 
The  idea  was  not  carried  out.  A  little  farther  off 
were  the  bride  and  groom  (without  which  no  train 
ever  runs),  and  behind  them,  much  amused  thereat, 
three  school-girls.  Loudest  of  all,  in  a  full  tide  of 
mutual  confidences,  were  two  matrons.  Marion  was 
pleased  to  learn  that  the  one  in  a  brown  bonnet 
trimmed  with  green  grapes  had  a  daughter  "  splen- 
didly "  educated,  if  her  "ma  did  keep  boarders  in 
order  to  fetch  it."  She  had  a  piano  that  cost  "four 
hundred,  and  not  new  at  that."  It  was  also  interest- 
ing, if  sad,  to  be  informed  that  said  daughter  had 
married  a  "scalawag."  "  Yes,"  affirmed  she  of  the 
artificial  grapes,  "  after  all  my  pains,  she  came  back 
on  my  hands,  and  he  too.  I  have  the  feelings  of  a 
mother,  and  I  long  to  pick  up  a  chair,  and  throw  at 
his  head." 

The  second  matron,  above  the  roar  and  rattle  of 
the  car,  explained  that  her  son  was  a  night  watch- 
man in  a  city  hospital.  The  doctors  wanted  him 
once  or  twice  to  sell  his  blood  for  transfusion  into 
sick  patients,  at  two  dollars  a  time.  He  did  so,  but, 
being  "one  of  your  particular  sort,"  insisted  it  should 
go  into  "no  poor  trash."  Just  as  the  passengers 
were  getting  interested  in  the  young  man,  she 
dropped  her  voice,  and  they  only  heard  from  the 


JACK  MAKES  A   FRIEND.  107 

mother  once  more.  About  dark,  as  she  left  the  car, 
they  heard  her  say,  that,  as  for  her,  she  "  would  not 
give  flour  pancakes  stomach-room." 

Marion  expected  to  get  to  Ingleside  about  nine 
o'clock ;  but  at  six  they  began  to  lose  time.  The 
train  made  frequent  stops,  with  many  shrieks,  much 
ringing  of  the  bell,  and  seasons  of  going  backward. 
Granty's  fears  were  for  once  prophetic.  The  storm 
had  made  bad  work  on  the  railroad.  Jack  informed 
himself  that  the  track  was  washed  away  in  places, 
and  they  feared  it  would  be  quite  under  water  farther 
on.  The  ladies  bestirred  themselves  to  look  out  of 
the  window ;  the  men  to  go  and  question  somebody. 
Confused  murmurs  arose  from  parties  who  had  ex- 
pected friends  to  meet  them.  The  gentleman  whose 
back  hair  had  attracted  Jack  put  down  his  paper, 
and  stretched  himself.  In  so  doing,  one  arm  was 
spread  out  on  the  back  of  his  seat,  and  the  broad 
palm  of  his  hand  dropped  invitingly  open.  In  a 
flash,  Jack's  fat  little  paw  met  it,  and  gave  it  just  the 
friendly  shake  it  might  have  expected,  but  certainly 
did  not.  Marion  could  have  shaken  Jack,  in  turn ; 
but  it  was  too  late.  The  stranger  turned,  after  a 
glance  at  Jack,  gave  a  genial  laugh,  and  exclaimed, 
"  Happy  to  meet  you,  sir !  Would  you  like  to  read 
my  newspaper  ? " 

"  If  it  is  full  of  murders,  aunt  Marion  won't  let  me. 


108  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

The  last  one  I  read,  she  said  I  must  stop,  or  I  would 
have  a  hanging  of  my  own  some  day." 

"  That  was  wise  in  her.  Don't  you  want  to  come 
over  here  ? " 

As  Jack  was  balancing  on  the  back  of  the  seat,  it 
was  certainly  courteous  to  invite  him  farther,  and 
equally  so  to  prevent  Marion  from  thinking  he  wished 
to  entrap  her  into  conversation.  Jack,  with  one 
thorough  searching  of  the  gentleman's  face,  found  it 
a  good,  masterful  countenance.  Thereupon  his  red 
stockings  and  funny  cropped  head  vanished  over  the 
dividing  line,  he  explaining  as  he  went,  "She  wants 
me  to  read  those  Christian  papers  about  bad  boys. 
I  believe  she  means  me  when  she  reads  them  out 
loud.  Granty  does  it  Sundays." 

"  Oh  !   I  don't  think  you  are  a  bad  boy." 

"  Aunt  Dorothy  (I  have  got  four  —  no,  five  aunts), 
—  she  is  surprised  I  am  not  worse ;  for  I  have  not 
prayed  for  myself  in  ever  so  long.  I  begin,  you 
know,  with  the  great-aunts,  and  I  stop  to  think  — 
one  of  them  has  got  a  husband —  I  would  get  to 
myself,  if  I  didn't  get  sleepy  first.  Dorothy  found 
it  out  sort  o'  by  accident :  I  s'pose  she  was  listening 
to  me." 

"  I  have  heard  of  people  who  never  prayed  for  any- 
body but  themselves.  Your  way  is  better ;  but  I 
think  it  is  too  generous." 


JACK  MAKES  A   FRIEND.  109 

"  I  have  been  taken  care  of,  though  ;  being  in  the 
family,  I  suppose.  That  woman  over  there  looks 
like  our  Bridget.  She  is  awfully  comical.  I  asked 
her  if  she  wanted  to  go  back  to  Ireland,  and  she  said, 
''Dade,  thin  !  No  Irish  dog  shall  ever  bark  at  me.'  " 

"  That  was  a  poetical  way  of  saying  she  should 
stay  in  America." 

"  Poetical ! "  echoed  Jack,  adding  quickly,  "  she 
has  a  beau,  a  cousin  she  calls  him  :  they  always  do, 
Granty  says.  She  got  mad  at  him  last  night :  she 
said,  '  He  had  a  nose  on  him,  and  I  had  a  nose  on 
me :  he  took  his  turned-up  nose  away  wid  him,  and 
I  kaped  me  turned-up  nose  behint.'  " 

The  gentleman  looking  mildly  interested,  Jack 
went  on,  "What  do  you  think  she  calls  the  theo- 
logical seminary  ? " 

"  I  cannot  imagine." 

"Well,  she  says  it  is  a  'zoological  cemetery.' " 

"Not  so  bad,"  said  the  gentleman.  "But  what 
are  we  stopping  here  for,  so  long  ?  "  He  arose  and 
went  to  the  door.  Marion  took  that  chance  to  tell 
Jack  not  to  talk  about  his  aunts,  or  any  thing  per- 
taining thereto.  A  man  came  through  the  car,  and 
lighted  the  lamps,  also  giving  the  dismal  information 
that  the  track  along  by  the  river  was  all  under 
water,  and  they  might  be  delayed  hours  on  the  way. 
The  gentleman,  returning  from  the  door,  found 


HO  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

acquaintances,  and  stopped  to  chat  with  them. 
Men  with  lanterns  hurried  back  and  forth  through 
the  cars.  Passengers  grumbled,  predicted  disaster, 
or  "guessed"  there  was  no  danger,  according  to 
their  sex  and  disposition.  At  nine  o'clock  they  were 
far  from  Ingleside.  Marion  was  very  grateful  for 
Granty's  nice  luncheon.  It  had  given  Jack  some- 
thing wherewith  to  comfort  his  drooping  spirits. 
When  the  last  cake  vanished,  he  curled  himself  up, 
and  went  to  sleep.  Marion  must  have  dozed  also ; 
for  it  was  midnight  when  she  came  wide  awake  to 
find  herself  cold  and  uncomfortable.  Through  her 
window  the  flickering  lights  shone  on  a  gloomy 
expanse  of  water.  She  heard  its  plash  against  the 
car-wheels  below.  A  sharp  wind  blew  in  when  the 
opposite  doors  were  opened,  and  everybody  else  in 
the  car  seemed  to  have  awakened  with  her  to  acute 
discomfort.  A  Grosser,  more  dismal,  cold,  and  un- 
sympathetic set  of  people,  could  hardly  be  imagined. 
Jack  arose,  blinking,  from  under  Marion's  wrap,  and 
asked,  "Are  we  there?" 

"  No,  Jack :  we  are  not  anywhere  in  particular ; 
and  I  do  not  like  it.  My  heart  is  in  my  mouth." 

"  It  is  not,"  he  returned,  with  decision.  "  If  it 
was,  you  would  have  to  spit  it  out.  And  it  is  too 
big,  anyway,"  he  added,  not  by  way  of  compliment, 
but  because  of  Hester's  correct  physiological  teach- 
ings. "  Are  you  afraid,  aunt  Marion  ?  " 


JACK  MAKES  A  FRIEND.  IEI 

"A  little." 

"  Do  you  think  God  will  take  care  of  us  ?  " 

"  Oh,  certainly,  Jack  !  " 

"  Then  what  do  you  worry  for  ?  Here,  put  your 
shawl  on." 

"  I  do  not  want  it,  Jack.     You  will  be  cold." 

The  small  man  wrapped  it  around  her  with  affec- 
tionate fury  ;  then  he  asked  if  the  last  cake  had  gone 
up.  It  had  gone  down,  so  he  said  it  was  no  matter. 
In  the  same  philosophic  spirit,  the  gentleman  whom 
Jack  admired  was  going  up  and  down  the  car,  making 
things  more  endurable.  He  shut  the  draughts  that 
were  chilling  everybody.  He  jested  as  if  they  were 
on  a  steamer,  and,  peering  out,  declared  he  saw  the 
Irish  coast.  He  quieted  the  fears  of  a  feeble  old 
woman,  and  found  her  a  more  comfortable  seat.  He 
advised  a  sulky  acquaintance  to  take  up  a  collection 
for  the  yellow-fever  sufferers  :  it  would  make  them 
all  feel  better. 

"  That  man  is  a  gentleman,"  thought  Marion,  after 
quietly  watching  him.  "  He  loses  no  dignity,  while 
he  brightens  up  everybody.  —  Where  are  you,  Jack  ? 
Come  back ! " 

The  youngster  was  careering  to  the  door  to  look 
out  on  the  face  of  the  waters.  Mindful  of  Granty's 
charges,  she  called  him  ;  but  he  did  not  hear  her. 
In  a  minute  the  gentleman  marched  him  back,  sat 


112  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

down  with  him  on  his  knees,  and  said,  "  I  have  heard 
of  you,  little  chap,  in  a  book  wherein  it  was  written, 
years  ago,  — 

"  How  could  you  keep  down  your  mirth 
When  the  floods  were  on  the  earth, 
When  from  all  your  drowning  kin 
Good  old  Noah  took  you  in  ? 
In  the  very  ark,  no  doubt, 
You  went  frolicking  about, 
Never  keeping  in  your  mind 
Drowned  monkeys  left  behind." 

"  Oh  !  I  have  heard  that  before  :  there  is  more  of 
it.  —  You  read  it  to  me  once  ;  didn't  you,  aunt  Marion  ? 

The  gentleman,  turning,  said  to  the  latter,  — 

"  Isn't  it  a  treasure  of  a  book  for  children  ?  It 
has  gone  out  of  fashion ;  but  there  are  no  prettier 
ballads  in  literature  for  children  than  some  of  Mary 
Howitt's  of  birds  and  bees  and  flowers." 

"Yes;  aunt  Marion  used  to  read  them  often  to 
me.  What  time  do  you  suppose  we  shall  get  into 
Ingleside  ?  Do  you  know  uncle  John  Pepperfield  ? " 
put  in  Jack. 

Before  Marion  could  stop  him  from  the  questions, 
he  had  them  out,  and  was  answered  :  "  I  live  at 
Ingleside,  and  I  know  Mr.  Pepperfield  well.  We 
play  a  great  many  games  of  chess  together.  I  am 
glad  I  know  where  you  are  going;  for,  should  Mr. 


JACK  MAKES  A  FRIEND.  113 

Pepperfield  not  understand  about  the  delay,  he  may 
suppose  you  are  not  coming.  To  arrive  after  mid- 
night, and  meet  no  friends,  would  be  very  unpleasant. 
Now  I  can  easily  find  you  a  carriage." 

Marion  thanked  him.  Jack  began,  "Aunt  Pepper- 
field  is  at  our  house,  and  we  "  — 

Some  influence  just  then  exerted  caused  him  to 
become  reticent,  to  look  out  of  the  window,  and 
amuse  himself  watching  for  sharks.  After  an  hour 
more  of  hitching  forward,  and  jerking  back,  of  start- 
ing and  of  stopping,  the  lights  of  Ingleside  appeared. 
When  they  left  the  car,  it  was  to  find  uncle  Pepper- 
field,  with  much  anxiety  and  a  little  lantern,  scurry- 
ing about  the  platform.  The  gentleman  ran  and 
secured  him  for  them,  then  courteously  bowed  him- 
self into  the  darkness. 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  Editor  of  "  The  Ph<znix" 

THERE  could  not  be  a  more  charming  home 
than  aunt  Pepperfield's.  The  house,  a  pretty, 
modern  cottage,  had  airy  rooms  with  one-paned 
windows,  whose  dark  casings  framed  exquisite  land- 
scapes. The  house  stood  on  a  hill  overlooking  little 
hamlets,  a  broad,  shining  river,  and  the  great  city, 
softened  by  distance.  In  the  rear  was  a  flourishing 
garden,  where  uncle  Pepperfield,  in  a  battered  straw 
hat,  was  forever  finding  something  to  dig  or  train  or 
prune  or  plant,  —  a  garden  that  had  no  prim  end,  but, 
getting  enough  of  flowers  and  vegetables,  rolled 
itself  on  in  velvety  turf,  until  it  tumbled  over  into, 
the  merriest  little  brook  imaginable.  It  scrambled 
up  on  the  other  side,  and  crept  to  the  edge  of  a 
grove  of  thick  trees,  almost  like  a  forest.  Ingleside 
was  properly  not  a  village  at  all,  but  a  beautiful 
spot,  where  people  of  taste  and  moderate  means 
could  enjoy  rural  life,  yet  be  near  the  city,  — a  place 
where  families  of  great  wealth  could  put  up  warlike 
114 


THE  EDITOR  OF  "THE  PHCENIX."  115 

castles  of  mixed  architecture  to  serve  as  peaceful 
country-seats. 

Marion  and  Jack  were  very  happy  here.  The  cares 
of  the  former  were  light.  She  presided  over  the  deco- 
rated china ;  saw  Mr.  Pepperfield  off  to  town  in  good 
clothes,  or  to  the  garden  in  old  ones ;  made  a  tour  of 
the  rooms ;  cared  for  the  pictures,  vases,  the  multi- 
tudinous tidies  and  mats  aunt  Huldah  delighted  in ; 
then  took  papers  and  pen  into  the  piazza,  that  over- 
looked miles  of  land  and  water,  —  of  woods  where 
each  tree  was  having  its  outline  pricked  out  in  scar- 
let or  yellow  on  the  hitherto  monotonous  green  of 
summer.  The  outlook  quickened  Marion's  fancies, 
and  she  blackened  an  incredible  amount  of  paper. 
The  afternoons  she  gave  to  Jack.  They  roamed  the 
grove,  and  made  -an  aquarium  by  the  brook.  A  gay 
young  lady  might  have  found  it  dull :  Marion  did 
not,  and  so  assured  Mr.  Pepperfield  whenever  he 
proposed  to  invite  guests,  or  to  take  her  to  the  city 
for  variety. 

One  evening  he  exclaimed,  as  he  put  down  his 
cup,  "  Upon  my  word,  you  ought  to  knojv  some  of 
our  friends !  There  is  a  capital  chap  who  comes 
here  frequently  ;  but  I  have  not  set  eyes  on  him 
lately.  He  is  one  of  your  sort  too." 

"  Why  ?     Is  he  a  little  old  maid  ?  " 

"Nonsense  !     You  don't  belong  to  the  sisterhood, 


Il6  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

and  can't  for  a  dozen  years.  The  crinkles  must  get 
out  of  your  hair,  the  twinkles  out  of  your  eyes,  and 
the  red  off  your  cheeks,  before  you  read  your  title 
clear,"  said  uncle  Pepperfield,  who  was  a  gallant  old 
gentleman  in  the  main.  "Besides,  there  are  no  old 
maids  nowadays,  only  a  few  left  over  from  the  last 
century,  hidden  away  in  corners.  Bless  'em  !  They 
ought  to  have  as  much  honor  paid  to  them  as  folks 
are  paying  to  old  spinning-wheels  and  other  precious 
relics.  No  :  the  women  who  don't  get  married  in 
these  days  know  the  reason  why,  and  other  folks 
generally  are  ready  to  believe  it  is  a  good  one. 
Some  make  themselves  so  smart  it  is  likely  they 
were  predestinated  to  just  that  smartness,  and  are  as 
great  a  success  as  if  they  had  married." 

"  Uncle  Pepperfield,"  cried  Marion,  "  once  utter 
those  sentiments  in  public,  and  you  are  a  marked 
man.  Some  progressive  club  will  elect  you  speaker. 
Aunt  Huldah  will  have  you  snatched  from  domestic 
life  to  be  a  champion  of  women  in  general,  of 
maidens  in  particular.  I  thank  you  as  an  individual, 
and  will  not  expose  your  opinions.  But  how  were 
you  going  to  show  that  your  friend  was  an  old 
maid  ? " 

"  I  never  said  a  word  about  old  maids  :  you  began 
it  yourself.  Tender  point,  after  all,  I  guess,"  con- 
tinued Mr.  Pepperfield.  "  I  only  meant  that  he  was 


THE  EDITOR   OF  "  THE  PHCENIX: 


117 


literary.  He  writes,  he  edits  a  paper,  he  makes 
public  speeches.  He  is  a  good  fellow  ;  a  confirmed 
old  bachelor,  —  disappointed,  it  may  be,  or  perhaps  he 
has  not  met  her." 

Mr.  Pepperfield  emptied  his  cup,  ate  all  his  peaches 
and  cream,  then  sat  and  smiled  suggestively. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Marion  innocently. 

"  Suppose  he  should  come  here ;  suppose  each  of 
you  should  say  the  same  thing  "  — 

"  About  the  weather,  perhaps  —  why,  that  would 
be  very  tame  "  — 

"Suppose,"  persisted  Mr.  Pepperfield,  "that  simul- 
taneous expression  should  be  veni,  vidi,  vici,  pro- 
nounced, of  course,  wany,  wedy,  weky.  Would  it 
not  be  nice,  Marion  ?  Two  pens  with  but  a  single  ink- 
stand !  You  could  give  each  other  hints  when  hard 
pressed  for  topics,  and  buy  your  foolscap  together,  at 
a  discount.  Shall  I  ask  him  to  tea  ? 

"  No,"  returned  Marion,  not  to  be  teased.  "  Please 
don't  endanger  our  happiness  by  asking  him.  I  want 
my  inkstand  all  to  myself.  We  should  quarrel." 

"Very  well:  he  will  come  sooner  or  later  of  his 
own  accord ;  then  let  him  remember  what  Homer 
says,  '  No  man  of  woman  born,  coward  or  brave,  can 
shun  his  destiny.'  In  the  mean  time  I  want  you  to 
appreciate  my  classical  allusions.  I  am  making 
dreadful  efforts  to  be  fit  company  for  an  authoress." 


Il8  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

"  I  thought  something  queer  ailed  you,"  laughed 
Marion  ;  "but  I  beg  of  you  not  to  distress  yourself 
any  more.  Are  you  going  into  the  city  to-morrow, 
uncle  Pepperfield  ? 

"  I  am.     Will  you  and  Jack  go  with  me  ?  " 

"  We  will.  I  have  some  little  things  to  attend  to, 
and  Jack  wants  to  see  the  sights,"  answered  Marion, 
as  they  arose  from  the  table. 

On  the  day  following,  the  three  went  into  town  by 
an  early  train.  Mr.  Pepperfield  planned  to  meet 
Marion  later  in  the  day,  and  left  her  for  a  few  hours 
to  her  own  devices.  She  went  to  picture-galleries, 
art-rooms,  and  bookstores  first,  then  to  a  variety- 
shop  to  buy  bits  of  lace,  ribbon,  and  pretty  trifles 
that  do  not  find  their  way  into  the  country.  All  the 
morning  she  was  conscious  of  a  large  envelope  in  her 
pocket.  She  had  sent  many  like  it  by  mail ;  but  this 
unstamped  one  made  her  uneasy  :  it  even  spoiled 
the  dainty  lunch  she  took  with  Jack  about  noon. 
The  fact  was,  that  Marion  had  resolved  to  carry  an 
article  in  person  to  an  editor.  All  these  previous 
years  she  had  kept  herself  out  of  sight ;  but,  now  that 
she  had  undertaken  to  write  as  a  means  of  support, 
it  seemed  best  to  do  it  in  the  most  business-like 
way.  If  she  went  directly  to  the  editor  for  whom  she 
intended  this  article,  she  could  inform  herself  on  sev- 
eral points  she  wished  to  understand,  and  that  better 


THE  EDITOR  OF  "THE  PHCENIX."  119 

than  she  could  do  by  writing  to  him.  She  had  once 
before  designed  an  article  for  this  same  editor,  but 
had  condemned  it  later  as  unsuitable.  It  was  to  him 
she  had  by  chance  sent  a  remarkable  chronicle  of 
the  Prescott  family  affairs,  although  this  was  certainly 
not  one  of  the  many  thoughts  in  her  mind. 

"Jack,"  she  exclaimed,  as  they  emerged  from  a 
candy-shop,  his  mouth  and  pocket  equally  distended 
with  sweets,  "  I  am  going  to  an  editor's  office  :  you 
must  be  as  still  as  a  mouse  if  you  go." 

"  Going  to  sit  with  your  head  in  iron  pinchers,  and 
leave  a  negative  behind  you  ?  "  asked  Jack,  with  misty 
ideas  of  a  photographer's  establishment. 

"  I  may  leave  a  negative  behind  me,"  she  mur- 
mured, glancing  at  a  plate-glass  window,  which  re- 
flected a  little  figure  in  a  gray  silk,  with  a  bunch  of 
pink  asters  in  the  belt,  veil  and  gloves  to  match.  It 
was  pleasant  to  think,  that  if  she  was  literary,  and 
was  going  to  an  editor,  and  did  have  a  manuscript  in 
her  pocket,  she  was  not  like  a  caricature,  with  cotton 
gloves  and  green  veil,  with  long  nose  and  spectacles. 
Her  manuscript  was  not  poetry ;  and,  if  he  did  not 
want  it,  other  editors  would.  This  she  knew  by 
experience,  and  it  put  courage  into  her.  Presently 
she  saw,  on  a  great  gilded  sign,  "  Office  of  The  Phoe- 
nix." Mounting  a  long  flight  of  stairs,  she  entered  a 
large  room,  with  smaller  ones  all  about  it,  and  various 


120  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

men  at  various  desks  scattered  here  and  there  in  a 
bewildering  way.  Any  one  of  them  might  be  Mr. 
Craig.  But  a  boy  passing  out  informed  her  he  was  in 
the  most  remote  room,  and  she  could  "go  right  in." 
She  left  Jack  in  the  first  seat ;  and  feeling  very 
small  and  very  presumptuous,  and  as  if  every  one  of 
those  probably  very  highly  gifted  men  sprinkled 
about  the  place  knew  what  she  had  in  her  pocket, 
and  that  it  was  not  half  as  good  as  she  had  supposed 
it  to  be,  she  went  on  and  straight  into  the  little  room. 
It  held  quantities  of  papers  in  piles  and  racks,  also  a 
big  desk,  a  big  man  in  a  big  chair,  with  his  broad 
shoulders  turned  to  her,  and  one  smaller  chair,  into 
which  she  sank  when  he  turned,  and  asked  her  to  be 
seated.  He  wrote  a  moment  longer,  called  a  boy, 
sent  him  with  a  paper  into  space,  and  then  wheeled 
about  toward  Marion.  At  one  glance  she  recognized 
her  fellow-traveller,  the  aristocratic  Mark  Tapley,  who 
had  come  out  so  well  that  dismal  night  on  the  cars. 
Not  that  he  looked  guilty  of  jollity  :  he  was  editorial 
gravity  itself. 

"How  glad  I  am  I  left  Jack  outside!"  thought 
Marion,  when  she  saw  he  did  not  recognize  her. 
Jack  would  have  greeted  him  like  a  long-lost  brother ; 
and  he  might  have  thought  she  was  making  that 
meeting,  and  the  fact  of  his  being  Mr.  Pepperfield's 
acquaintance,  a  passport  to  his  favor.  Well  for  her 


THE  EDITOR   OF  "THE  PHCENIX."  121 

she  did  not  dream  at  the  moment  that  this  was  the 
very  friend  of  whom  her  uncle  had  talked  :  she  would 
hardly  have  been  so  serene  in  stating  her  errand. 
As  it  was,  she  talked  with  the  clearness  and  precis- 
ion of  a  bell  that  does  not  give  one  unnecessary 
stroke.  Mr.  Craig  told  her  that  the  article,  if  left, 
would  receive  due  attention ;  that  many  well-written 
articles  were  offered  them  that  they  could  not  pub- 
lish. He  gave  her  full  answers  to  all  her  questions, 
and  was  very  courteous,  although  his  eyes  returned 
to  his  work  in  a  way  that  was  somewhat  suggestive. 
Her  errand  accomplished,  she  arose  to  go  ;  and,  with 
a  pleasant  smile,  he  looked  directly  in  her  face.  She 
saw  at  once  a  puzzled  expression  flit  across  his,  and 
fade  out.  She  knew  he  was  wondering  where  he  had 
seen  her,  and  was  secretly  amused  to  think  she  could 
tell  him  if  she  chose.  Could  she  have  done  it  ?  He 
had  actually  seen  little  more  than  her  veil  in  the 
cars ;  but  that  very  moment  there  was  a  photograph 
of  her  folded  in  her  letter  in  the  desk  at  which  he 
sat.  He  bowed  very  graciously  as  she  retired,  and 
in  two  moments  had  forgotten  her  existence.  Jack 
greeted  her  as  if  she  had  been  gone  a  year ;  and  they 
went  gayly  forth  to  meet  Mr.  Pepperfield. 

When  they  were  comfortably  seated  in  the  cars 
for  the  return  home,  Marion  said,  "  Uncle,  do  you 
remember,  that,  the  night  I  arrived  in  Ingleside,  a 


122  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

gentleman  helped  us  off  the  cars,  and  found  you  ? 
Well,  he  is  the  editor  of  'The  Phoenix,'  isn't  he? 
Does  he  live  there  ? " 

"  Certainly.  Why,  that  is  Craig !  Well,  I  de- 
clare !  if  you  had  not  met  him  already,  after  all  my 
planning ! " 

"  Yes  ;  and  I  have  seen  him  again  to-day.  Now,  I 
beg  of  you  not  to  ask  him  to  tea  while  he  is  sitting 
in  judgment  on  my  ten-page  article." 

"  You  need  not  fear :  it  would  not  have  the  least 
influence  with  him.  I  might  feed  him  on  ambrosia, 
and  introduce  him  to  Venus  herself :  he  would  eat 
one,  and  admire  the  other ;  but,  if  Venus  offered  him, 
next  day,  a  poor  poem,  he  would  not  accept  it  for 
love  nor  money.  You  will  get  justice  done  you,  and 
nothing  more." 

At  this  point  Jack  wished  to  buy  the  valuable 
jewel  supposed  to  be  embedded  in  a  dime  package  of 
gum-drops,  and  the  purchase  turned  the  conversation 
to  other  matters. 

That  evening  Marion  received  the  following  letter 
from  Hester :  — 

DEAR  MARION,  —  We  are  all  well;  but  some  of  us  ought  to 
take  time  to  tell  you  so,  or  you  will  worry.  We  have  just  re- 
covered from  a  tea-party,  which  we  had  very  severely.  Granty 
said  there  were  a  few  friends  of  aunt  Pepper's  that  we  must 
invite  to  tea,  and  that  it  would  be  neighborly  to  have  the  How- 


THE  EDITOR   OF  "THE  PHCENIX."  123 

ells  and  the  minister  over  there.  Dorothy  agreed,  of  course, 
and  we  began  to  plan  for  about  enough  people  to  sit  around  the 
table  with  all  its  leaves  in ;  but  we  are  simple.  We  might 
have  known  that  one  of  Granty's  incipient  tea-parties  goes 
immediately  to  work  like  yEsop's  bull-frog,  and  swells  and 
swells,  until  the  grand  explosion  is  that  of  a  very  big  thing 
indeed.  Ours  was,  I  assure  you.  But  it  was  very  pleasant,  and 
every  one  came  who  was  invited,  —  about  forty  in  all.  Granty 
said  the  outer  kitchen-door  and  the  back-steps  must  be  re- 
painted first.  Dorothy  thought  it  unnecessary,  as  the  guests 
came  in  after  dark,  at  the  front-door.  But  we  had  it  done,  and 
they  look  nicely,  —  at  least  they  did.  You  know  the  dog's  trick 
of  scratching  to  be  let  in  ?  Well,  the  painter  said  he  must  be 
kept  from  it,  and  I  tied  him  to  the  table-leg  in  the  office ;  but 
Granty,  going  in  there,  let  him  loose.  She  said  he  looked  as  if 
his  "feelings  were  hurt."  Mine  were;  for  he  ran  directly,  and 
rubbed  his  nose  and  paws  all  over  the  fresh  paint.  I  tried  to 
remove  his  tracks  myself  by  repainting  with  my  tube  colors ; 
but  it  made  me  think  of  Maude  Howells's  remarks  to  Mr.  Sev- 
ern about  "  large  aims,  and  inadequacy  of  expression."  It  is  a 
pretty  way  she  has  of  talking  of  art  to  him,  and  quite  harmless  ; 
only  I  wonder  she  can  enjoy  it.  She  chirped  away  sweetly 
about  "  pre-Raphaelites  and  impressionists,  sects  in  art,  paint- 
ers' techniques,  and  aestheticism."  He  looked  at  her  with  comi- 
cal attention,  and  I  was  wicked  enough  to  wonder  what  new 
book  it  was  this  time.  Marion,  you  need  not  buy  me  the  cash- 
mere dress  I  spoke  of  having.  I  have  spent  the  money.  When 
I  came  to  painting  the  last  little  fright  of  a  Scudder  girl,  I 
resolved  to  take  the  price  of  her  head,  so  to  speak,  and  get  the 
new  dress ;  but  I  have  had  to  buy  up,  instead,  about  five  hun- 
dred old  relatives.  Maybe  you  do  not  understand  the  obliga- 
tion. I  did  not  at  first ;  but  I  have  bought  them  all  the  same, 


124  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

Do  you  remember  a  fellow  named  Dusenberry,  who  was  forever 
writing  to  uncle  Jack  to  find  out  about  some  branch  of  the  Coxe 
family,  or  the  Wiggins  or  the  Higgins  who  "  intermarried," 
always  ending  his  letters  with,  "And  please  answer  who  and 
where  and  what  and  when;  your  loving  cousin,  Dusenberry  "  ? 
Well,  it  seems  that  for  forty  years  he  has  been  making  out  the 
genealogy  of  the  Prescott  family,  —  getting  up  a  big  book.  It  is 
done;  and  he  writes  that  it  will  be  of  the  "profoundest  in- 
terest "  to  us ;  that  uncle  would  certainly  have  taken  it  (and 
paid  ten  dollars) ;  that  he  considers  the  price  of  it,  therefore,  a 
debt  of  honor  which  we  will  be  glad  to  discharge.  Now,  if  it 
were  on  the  side  of  the  "  New-England "  ancestors,  I  would 
like  to  know  every  thing  about  the  people  of  whom  we  have  so 
many  pictures  and  relics  ;  but  for  the  rest —  Uncle  Jack  used 
to  say  he  "would  not  give  a  sixpence  for  the  whole  shake  of 
them,"  up  to  his  contemporaries,  whom  he  liked,  of  course. 
We  talked  it  over,  and  vowed  we  would  not  have  it ;  then  we 
remembered  uncle  Jack's  ways.  We  knew  he  would  have 
laughed  at  the  loving  cousin  for  a  pertinacious  pest,  and  sent 
the  money.  So  I  took  a  last  sad  look  at  De  Soto  discovering 
the  Mississippi,  on  the  face  of  my  new  greenback,  and  mailed 
it  to  Dusenberry.  To-day  a  mighty  tome  arrived,  bound  in 
bright  magenta  cloth,  which  looks  dreadfully  on  our  table- 
covers,  and  is  too  large  for  the  book-case.  Would  it  not  be 
quite  appropriate  to  use  it  for  a  pedestal  to  the  family  skeleton, 
and  leave  it  there,  with  the  "  old  associations "  that  Mrs. 
Ruggles  palmed  off  on  us  ?  Write  and  tell  us  what  you  and 
Jack  are  doing  to  amuse  yourselves.  Tell  uncle  Pepperfield 
he  cannot  have  aunt  Huldah  yet:  we  want  her  several  weeks 
longer.  She  is  enjoying  herself  very  much.  I  must  tell  you 
how  she  took  Old  Mortality,  and  went  all  alone  for  a  drive, 
one  day  soon  after  she  came.  He  went  very  well  until  she  was 


THE  EDITOR  OF  "THE  PIKE  NIX."  125 

about  seven  miles  from  home,  then  he  fell  into  that  agonizing 
drag,  drag,  as  if  protesting  against  the  cruelty  of  expecting  him 
to  move.  She  did  not  understand,  and  fancied  "he  was  sick: 
so  she  stopped  at  various  farmhouses,  and  had  him  examined. 
At  last  one  man  brought  her  a  long  slim  lath,  and  told  her  to 
slap  him  the  whole  length  of  his  body,  if  he  did  not  care  for  the 
whip.  She  did  not  get  home  at  sunset,  and  Granty  was  wild 
with  fright,  declaring  he  had  run  away  with  her.  I  had  to 
borrow  Mr.  Howells's  horse  and  phaeton  about  eight  o'clock, 
and  go  in  search  of  them  with  bandages,  hartshorn,  and  brandy ; 
with  a  lantern,  too,  to  find  them,  if  mangled  by  the  wayside.  I 
met  them  crawling  into  town  by  the  toll-gate ;  and  aunt  Huldah, 
for  once,  was  nq.t  singing  a  hymn.  I  believe  she  longed  to  do 
something  else  that  begins  with  "s." 

Dorothy  will  write  you  when  she  gets  time.  Perhaps  she 
will  forget  to  tell  you  that  Mr.  Jerry  Scudder  comes  to  bother 
me  about  his  family  photographs  much  oftener  than  necessary, 
and  always  asks  for  her  on  some  pretext  or  other. 

THURSDAY  MORNING.  —  I  forgot  to  send  this  letter  Tues- 
day ;  for,  before  I  finished  it,  we  had  a  sudden  call  from  Mrs. 
Howells.  A  great  party  of  relatives  had  come  unexpectedly  to 
visit  her ;  and,  compress  her  family  as  she  might,  there  were 
still,  as  in  the  old  puzzle,  too  many  people  for  the  beds.  Would 
we  take  Mr.  Severn  here  to  board  for  a  week  or  two  ?  He  was 
"  no  more  trouble  than  a  little  kitten."  She  might  have  known, 
if  he  had  been  as  much  trouble  as  a  whole  menagerie  of  mature 
tiger-cats,  Granty's  neighborliness  would  have  been  equal  to 
the  demand.  Well,  Mr.  Severn  came,  and  we  have  put  him 
into  your  room.  The  first  rainy  day  he  drifted  into  the  office, 
and  Granty  said  he  might  as  well  use  it  for  a  study  as  to  be 
going  back  and  forth  between  the  two  houses.  Even  in  these 
three  days,  he  has  filled  the  office,  so  to  speak,  with  literary 


126  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

sandwiches ;  for  between  every  two  books  on  the  body  there 
now  seems  to  be  one  on  the  soul.  Not  that  he  is  pushing  in 
the  least :  I  like  him  now  I  have  seen  him.  Last  evening  we 
were  together,  alone  in  the  parlor,  and  I  forgot  him  entirely ; 
but  he  must  have  been  refreshed  by  silence  and  reflection ;  for 
the  next  day  he  told  Molly  Howells  I  was  "  extremely  sensible." 
If  he  has  a  capacity  for  silence,  we  will  agree  beautifully. 
Marion,  if  Jack  has  the  croup,  give  him  the  remedies  marked 
No.  i ;  for  simple  sore  throat,  No.  2.  If  you  are  not  sure  send 
for  a  doctor  immediately.  Now  good-by. 

Yours, 

HESTER  PRESCOTT. 

"Well,  well!"  exclaimed  Marion.  " Hester  likes 
the  minister,  does  she  ?  He  had  better  go  back  to 
the  Howellses  as  soon  as  possible !  Getting  inter- 
ested in  interesting  clergymen  is  a  common  and  well- 
known  weakness.  I  hope  this  one  has  not  dyspep- 
sia or  chronic  hoarseness.  Hester  never  can  see  a 
human  being  ailing  in  any  way,  and  let  the  creature 
alone." 


CHAPTER  XL 

Dorothy  and  the  Photographs. 

DOROTHY  PRESCOTT  was  a  person  who  had 
to  make  herself  agreeable,  unless  there  was  a 
well-defined  necessity  that  she  should  be  otherwise. 
She  infused  such  bonhomie  into  the  dryest  affairs  of 
life,  that  old  grumblers,  crusty  officials,  disobliging 
workmen,  anybody  in  contact  with  her,  lost  rapidly 
stiffness,  grumpiness,  and  gravity.  She  did  not  feel 
more  interest  in  her  fellow-creatures  than  did  Hester 
or  Marion  ;  but  she  elicited  at  first  more  confidence 
and  sympathy.  She  found  out  people's  vulnerable 
points,  and  attacked  them  with  gay  yet  kindly  auda- 
city :  she  knew  her  power,  but  never  abused  it.  One 
day  during  Marion's  absence  she  was  quietly  sewing, 
when  Hester  appeared  in  the  library,  with  the  entire 
collection  of  the  Scudders,  all  finished,  and  ready 
for  removal.  Mrs.  Scudder,  done  in  a  cloud,  was 
greatly  improved  :  indeed,  no  fault  could  be  found 
with  any  of  the  family,  unless  one  objected  to  the 


128  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

original  design  of  their  faces  or  figures,  for  which, 
certainly,  Hester  could  not  be  held  accountable. 

"  I  am  so  glad  you  are  through  with  them  !  "  ex- 
claimed Dorothy.  "  Now  he  will  stop  coming  here." 

"  I  doubt  that,"  said  Hester.  "  You  have  been  too 
polite  to  him." 

"//     Aren't  you  ashamed  to  say  that  ?  " 

"Yes, you/  If  you  had  not  listened  to  his  talk 
about  the  farm,  he  would  not  have  brought  that  jug 
of  maple  sirup  *as  a  present  to  Granty.  He  asked 
me  last  week  if  we  had  plenty  of  garden  '  sass  '  on 
the  place.  If  there  is  not  a  damper  put  on  him,  he 
will  come  courting,  as  Mrs.  Nickelby's  old  gentleman 
did,  by  throwing  cucumbers  over  the  garden -wall  ; 
and  it  will  all  be  your  fault." 

"  Yes,  Dorothy  :  you  have  done  very  wrong  if  you 
have  trifled  with  him,"  put  in  Granty  severely.  "  He 
is  a  good,  clever  man  ;  he  attends  church  regularly : 
and  I  would  not  have  his  feelings  hurt  for  any  thing." 

"  Nor  I,  Granty.  Shall  I  encourage  him  ?  Would 
you  like  him  for  a  nephew  ?  " 

"  Dorothy,  you  are  not  a  chit  of  a  girl  to  be  flirt- 
ing. Treat  him  courteously." 

"  So  I  have,  and  Hester  does  not  like  it.  Now, 
what  if  he  comes  after  the  pictures  are  taken  away  ? " 

"The  pictures  are  neither  here  nor  there,"  said 
Granty,  with  the  beautiful  irrelevancy  peculiar  to  her 
when  too  closely  questioned. 


DOROTHY  AND    THE  PHOTOGRAPHS.  129 

Meanwhile  Hester  was  decorating  the  room.  Mr. 
Scudder  smiled  from  the  mantel ;  Mrs.  Scudder  hov- 
ered over  the  candelabra ;  the  youthful  Scudders 
stared  from  as  many  brackets  and  convenient  nooks. 
She  had  just  placed  them  when  Granty  left  the  room  ; 
and  soon  after  Miss  O'Flarity  let  in  Mr.  Scudder 
himself. 

"You  are  just  in  time  to  see  all  the  pictures  to- 
gether," said  Hester  ;  "  and  you  can  take  them  home 
to-day  if  you  wish.  The  varnish  is  quite  dry  now." 

"Oh,  my!  Aren't  they  a  lot  of  them?"  said  he, 
beginning  at  his  own,  and  going  around  as  at  an  ex- 
hibition worthy  of  all  attention. 

"  Do  you  think  mine  is  good  ? "  he  asked  soon, 
turning  shyly  to  Dorothy. 

"  Yes  :  I  think  it  an  excellent  likeness." 

He  went  on,  looking  pleased,  and  bestowed  approv- 
ing glances  on  his  offspring.  Coming  to  Mrs.  Scud- 
der, he  ejaculated,  "  She  as  was,  and  is  no  more  !  " 

The  tone  of  real  feeling  had  the  effect  of  keeping 
Dorothy's  risibles  under  control. 

"  I  have  a  box  that  will  hold  them  all,  and  keep 
them  from  rubbing  together,"  continued  Hester.  "I 
will  get  it,  and  pack  them,  if  you  wish." 

"  Thank  you  !  I  have  my  buggy  at  the  gate  :  I  can 
take  them  as  well  as  not." 

Hester  left  the  room,  and  was  detained  a  long  time. 


130  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

Dorothy  noticed,  with  a  little  uneasiness,  that  Mr. 
Scudder  appeared  relieved  at  her  departure. 

"  She  as  was,  and  is  no  more,"  he  repeated,  then 
suddenly  dropped  into  a  chair  near  Dorothy's  own. 
"  And,  because  she  is  no  more,  her  place  is  vacant." 

By  the  ominous  tremor  in  the  worthy  man's  voice, 
Dorothy  was  sure,  that,  in  a  matrimonial  sense,  he 
was  about  to  "leap;"  and  she  as  quickly  resolved 
that  he  should  "look"  first,  and  save  himself  from 
the  act.  She  broke  out  in  sympathetic  cheeriness, 
"Yes;  and  you  are  very  lonely.  You  ought,  Mr. 
Scudder,  for  your  own  comfort  and  the  children's,  to 
marry  again.  There  are  so  many  nice  girls  in  the 
country  around  here  !  You  ought  never  to  think  of 
marrying  anybody  but  a  farmer's  daughter;  for  no 
town-bred  girl  could  oversee  that  beautiful  great  dairy 
and  all  your  farm  work  of  the  house.  You  need  a 
stirring,  capable  woman  that  understands  that  per- 
fectly. I  don't  myself  know  what  that  work  is  to 
describe  it :  I  never  spent  two  days  on  a  farm  in  my 
life.  I  "  — 

Dorothy  was  at  a  loss  now  to  "  narrow  in  to  a  close," 
as  speakers  say.  She  only  wanted  to  save  his  pride, 
encourage  him  to  marry — somebody  else,  and  let 
him  see  the  vanity  of  his  present  efforts.  But  it  was 
not  easy  to  demonstrate  her  unfitness  for  a  position 
that  had  not  been  offered  to  her. 


DOROThY  AND    THE  PHOTOGRAPHS.  131 

"  What  you  say  is  true,'  Miss  Prescott.  The  house 
wants  a  lady  about  it  to  keep  things  ship-shape,  and 
to  teach  the  youngsters  better  manners.  Coming 
here  lately,  and  seeing  how  nice  and  genteel  things 
are  where  women-folks  manage,  I  thought "  —  Mr. 
Scudder  gasped  —  "I  thought  maybe  —  maybe  — 
there  were  so  many  of  you  here,  one  could  be  spared 
as  well  as  not.  And  you  "  — 

"  Oh,  don't  tease  us,  Mr.  Scudder,  about  being 
three  spinsters,  as  uncle  Jack  used  to !  You  see,  we 
grew  up  very  independent,  and  feel  as  if  we  all  be- 
longed together.  I  don't  suppose  one  of  us  would 
think  of  leaving  the  rest.  But  there  is  not  much 
danger  of  our  being  asked,"  rattled  on  Dorothy  hypo- 
critically. "  Everybody  knows  we  are  one  and  in- 
separable. But  it  \syou  we  are  talking  about.  If  I 
were  in  your  place,  I  would  look  about  for  some  tall, 
slim,  black-eyed  lady,  farmer's  daughter  (contrast, 
you  know).  Be  sure  she  has  a  good  disposition,  and 
then  court  her  slowly  and  surely." 
•  Mr.  Scudder's  countenance  betrayed  doubt,  wonder, 
finally  decision.  He  spoke  firmly,  with  one  eye  on 
the  door,  expectant  of  Hester,  "  You  can  have  me 
yourself,  Dorothy" 

"  I  ?  Oh,  I,  Mr.  Scudder  !  You  could  find  a  wife 
that  would  be  a  great  deal  better  for  you.  I  have  the 
highest  opinion  of  your  moral  worth  ;  but  it  is  just 
as  I  said,  —  we  must  keep  together." 


132  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

"You  can  come,  every  one  of  you!  the  farm  is 
big  enough,  —  old  lady  and  all, — yes,  every  mortal 
fellow  of  you ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Scudder,  too  excited 
to  be  elegant  in  language  any  longer. 

Dorothy  struggled  with  the  fun  of  that  last  decla- 
ration and  her  real  admiration  for  his  generous  nature. 

"  You  are  a  large-souled  man,  Mr.  Scudder,  and  I 
thank  you  with  all  my  heart ;  but  please  don't  give 
this  idea  another  serious  thought.  We  are  all  attached 
to  the  old  homestead,  and  all  so  —  so  independent, 
you  would  not  understand  us,  —  no,  not  one  of  us  !  " 

Mr.  Scudder  regarded  Miss  Dorothy  mournfully ; 
but  he  saw  it  was  of  no  use  to  urge  his  suit.  He 
looked  at  the  photographs,  then  back  at  her,  remark- 
ing in  a  depressed  way,  "  Well,  if  it  is  no  go,  there 
is  no  use  crying  over  it.  Don't  you  say  any  thing 
about  it,  will  you,  Miss  Prescott  ?  Folks  twit  a  wid- 
ower so  everlastingly  about  such  things  !  " 

"  I  will  never  mention  it  to  a  person,"  said  Dorothy 
promptly.  "I  shall  take  an  interest  in  you;  and,  if 
I  can  help  you  in  any  way,  I  certainly  will  at  any 
time." 

Mr.  Scudder  sat  silently  cogitating,  on  that  last 
remark  of  hers.  It  had  a  cheering  influence.  "  Thank 
you,  thank  you  for  that !  I  have  always  heard  you 
girls  were  smart.  Anybody  you  would  advise  would 
be  likely  to  be  a  little  above  par.  I  don't  want  to  be 


DOROTHY  AND    THE    PHOTOGRAPHS.          133 

taken  in  ;  and,  as  long  as  I  have  begun  on  this  kind 
of  thing,  I  might  as  well  carry  it  through." 

Dorothy  thought  of  the  beautiful  farm,  of  the  good- 
ness of  this  simple  man  in  the  stiff  shirt-collar  and 
big  seal-ring,  of  the  many  worthy  women  who  wanted 
a  home,  and  she  resolved  to  help  him  to  a  wife.  Her 
mo'tive  was  benevolence  and  a  wee  bit  of  private  fun. 
She  gave  him  her  hearty  sympathy  and  promise  of 
aid.  Hester  at  this  point  returned,  and  packed  the 
pictures  very  neatly  for  transportation.  Mr.  Scudder 
took  them  with  expressions  of  approval,  and  prepared 
to  go  home.  He  shook  hands  with  each  lady,  but 
said  to  Dorothy,  as  he  was  going  out  of  the  door, 
under  his  breath,  "  I  will  call  in  a  week  or  so  :  mean- 
while you  think  about  "  — 

Dorothy's  face  was  demure ;  but  the  riotous,  pent- 
up  fun  made  her  whisper,  "About  'she  as  is  to  be'  f" 

Mr.  Scudder  nodded  like  an  excited  Chinese  man- 
darin, and  backed  out  hurriedly  with  "  she  as  was  " 
tucked  carefully  under  his  arm. 

Not  a  word  of  that  interview  did  Dorothy  divulge  ; 
but  for  many  a  day  the  amusement  her  thoughts 
seemed  to  afford  her  was  the  occasion  of  remark  in 
the  family. 

Mr.  Severn  looked  toward  the  Howells'  mansion 
every  day  with  much  solicitude,  which  was  purely 


134  'UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

apprehensive.  When  the  guests  went  away,  he  would 
be  expected  to  go  back,  and  he  was  so  comfortable 
where  he  was.  Everybody  let  him  alone  here,  and 
they  were  attentive  to  him  across  the  road.  Had  he 
been  conceited  and  lazy,  the  atmosphere  of  the  How- 
ells's  home  would  have  been  refreshing  ;  but  he  was 
a  guileless,  scholarly  man,  with  a  rugged  strength  of 
character  hidden  under  a  gentle,  quiet  manner.  He 
discovered,  after  a  few  days,  that  at  the  Howells'  the 
ladies  were  masquerading  in  a  harmless  but  very  tire- 
some way.  He  would  in  the  morning,  for  instance, 
have  preferred  to  drink  his  coffee  while  he  found  out 
from  plain  Jacob  Howells  something  of  the  early  his- 
tory of  the  town  ;  but  Miss  Maude  always  came  clown 
to  the  table  with  a  burning  desire  to  converse  on  Indo- 
European  and  Semitic  relationships,  or  some  similar 
topic.  He  was  ready  to  give  her  the  benefit  of  his 
knowledge,  accounting  it  not  much  at  the  best ;  but, 
hers  being  infinitely  less,  the  exercise  was  not  to 
him  exhilarating.  Moreover,  mother  Howells  was 
constantly  administering  little  sops  of  flattery,  and 
repeating  the  compliments  bestowed  upon  him  by  his 
parishioners.  He  thought  them  all  very  kind,  but 
he  enjoyed  it  no  more  than  living  in  a  room  hung 
with  mirrors. 

Here  at  the  Prescotts'  nothing  was  done  for  effect. 
Everybody  was  simply  natural.     When  Granty  talked 


DOROTHY  AND    THE  PHOTOGRAPHS.  135 

with  him  he  recognized,  back  of  her  little  oddities, 
the  well-educated  gentlewoman.  Dorothy's  brisk  and 
breezy  personality  interested  him  as  much  as  Hes- 
ter's classical  face,  and  shy,  cold  manner.  He  never 
heard  her  speak  of  "  art ;  "  and  yet,  if  a  pencil  found 
its  way  into  her  fingers,  she  was  soon  sketching 
somebody  or  something.  She  saw  every  curious 
plant  or  weed  if  she  went  for  a  walk  ;  she  decorated 
the  house  with  rare  combinations  of  the  old-fash- 
ioned flowers  from  the  garden.  Everywhere  about 
the  various  rooms  were  her  studies  of  fruit,  flowers, 
birds,  bits  of  landscape,  and  even  attempts  at  mod- 
elling. If  he  tried  to  discuss  them,  she  was  as  com- 
municative as  a  child  unwillingly  catechised.  To  let 
Hester  alone,  or,  better  still,  to  oppose  her,  was  to  see 
her  in  her  most  interesting  light,  as  he  had  already 
fond  out. 

One  morning  after  breakfast,  Mr.  Severn  lingered 
in  the  dining-room,  and,  turning  to  Dorothy,  said, 
"  Miss  Prescott,  I  believe  it  was  intended  that  I 
should  live  on  this  side  of  the  road.  You  remember 
I  gravitated  directly  here  in  the  first  place,  but  you 
put  me  immediately  out  in  the  cold.  Later  you  had 
to  yield,  not  to  me,  but  to  circumstances.  I  want  so 
much  some  plea  for  urging  you  to  keep  me  now  you 
have  me.  How  can  I  conciliate  you  ?  I  will  study 
the  newest  theories  as  to  cows .  and  hens,  or  any  of 


136  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

these  matters  you  have  so  much  sport  over.  I  will  go 
to  market  for  Miss  O'Flarity.  I  will  get  Jack  through 
the  multiplication-table  when  he  gets  back.  All  this 
and  much  more  will  I  do,  if  you  will  not  thrust  me 
out  again.  —  Can  you  not  plead  for  me,  Mrs.  Pepper- 
field  ? "  he  asked,  turning  to  aunt  Huldah,  who  sat 
in  a  cosey  corner,  with  pink  roses  in  her  pretty 
breakfast-cap. 

"  I  feel  a  great  deal  safer,"  said  she,  "  to  know  that 
there  is  a  man  in  the  house,  and  I  should  think  the 
rest  would." 

"  Very  true.  And  I  forgot  to  mention  that  I  would 
lock  that  particular  cellar-door  I  have  heard  spoken 
of :  I  will  do  it  every  night  regularly,"  added  Mr. 
Severn,  laughing. 

"  Uncle  Jack  left  us  two  revolvers,"  said  Hester 
suggestively. 

"And  I  would  no  more  touch  one  than  I  would  fly 
to  the  moon!  "  ejaculated  Granty. 

"In  case  of  any  trouble,"  said  Hester  coolly,  "I 
should,  fire  one,  no  matter  where  I  hit." 

"  I  am  a  good  shot.  If  I  took  aim  with  the  other, 
the  fortress  would  be  doubly  secure,"  said  he. 

"  What  will  the  Howells  think  ?  "  asked  Granty. 

"  They  were  so  very  kind  to  me,  I  should  not  think 
of  asking  a  dismissal,  if  I  could  not  urge  that  they 
need  my  rooms  in  all  cases  of  company.  This  house 


DOROTHY  AND    THE  PHOTOGRAPHS.  137 

is  larger  and  quieter.  I  can  study  much  better  here, 
for  several  reasons." 

"  Well,  if  that  is  so,"  returned  Granty,  "  and  you 
can  arrange  it  with  them,  you  are  welcome  to  stay." 

Mr.  Severn  went  away  with  pleased  alacrity,  deter- 
mined to  settle  the  matter  that  very  day.  It  was 
going  to  be  a  blessed  thing,  he  assured  himself,  to 
abide  with  these  sincere  people.  Hester,  he  knew, 
had  not  said,  "  Come,"  because  she  was  not  sure  that 
she  wanted  him  ;  but  he  would  not  make  himself  dis- 
agreeable. If  Granty  wished  him  chiefly  as  a  bur- 
glar-alarm, never  mind ;  that  was  much  better,  he 
secretly  reflected,  than  to  have  Miss  Maude  mark 
him  for  her  own  as  a  listener  to  her  ideas  on  Sanscrit 
literature.  He  told  the  Prescotts  at  dinner-time  that 
it  was  all  pleasantly  arranged  with  Mrs.  Howells ; 
and  by  night  his  books,  trunks,  and  himself  were  per- 
manently settled  under  their  roof.  To  keep  a  minis- 
ter who  would  insist  upon  staying  was  not  the  same 
plebeian  thing  as  taking  a  common  boarder,  in  Gran- 
ty's  aristocratic  opinion.  She  was  well  pleased*  that 
he  had  become  one  of  the  family. 

That  same  afternoon  Hester  was  training  a  wood- 
bine to  grow  over  an  apple-tree  stump  in  the  yard, 
when  Molly  Howells  came  across  the  street,  and 
joined  her.  Hester  liked  Molly  very  much  :  there 
was  a  hearty  truthfulness  about  her  that  made  her 


138  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

often  shocking  to  her  sisters,  but  was  not  disagreea- 
ble to  others.  She  was  a  tall  girl,  with  strong  limbs, 
large,  well-defined  features,  and  a  voice  a  trifle  loud  ; 
but  this  was  because  of  strong  lungs  and  hearty  phy- 
sique, not  from  a  bold  or  coarse  nature." 

"You  have  Mr.  Severn  over  here  now,"  she  ex- 
claimed, seating  herself  in  a  rustic  chair.  "  I  am 
glad  of  it !  I  like  him  ;  but  it  was  a  bore  to  have 
him  at  our  house,  for  me  ;  and  I  am  not  sure  it  would 
not  have  been  for  the  rest,  after  a  while.  We  all  had 
to  take  a  European  trip  again  the  first  thing." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  Hester. 

"Why,  you  know  we  went  abroad  five  or  six  years 
ago.  All  I  remember  is  a  jumble  of  churches,  pic- 
tures, parks,  waiters,  beer,  no  gas,  no  bath-tub,  half 
the  time,  nothing  much  I  liked  to  eat,  and  mamma 
worrying  over  our  trunks  all  the  time.  But,  since 
Mr.  Severn  came,  we  have  been  studying  our  guide- 
books to  see  where  we  went,  and  what  we  must  have 
seen,  so  as  to  be  able  to  talk  about  it.  We  were  only 
gone  three  months,  and  of  course  we  have  forgotten 
—  I  have — all  the  pictures  and  statuary  anyway. 
Maude  declares  she  has  not  Oh,  I  wish  I  had  some- 
thing to  do  I  enjoyed!  I  wish  I  had  a  whole  dozen 
little  brothers  and  sisters  to  dress  and  teach  and 
scold  and  play  with.  I  can't  be  intellectual  if  I  try  ; 
and  I  just  told  mamma  to-day  I  will  not  drag  through 


DOROTHY  AND   THE  PHOTOGRAPHS.  139 

books  I  hate  and  do  not  understand,  if  they  are  stand- 
ard. You  are  so  smart  over  here,  you  think  I  am 
dreadful,  probably.  Oh,  dear  !  "  and  Molly  heaved  a 
strong  sigh  from  her  robust  chest. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Molly?"  asked  Dorothy, 
appearing  with  a  coil  of  wire  for  Hester's  vine. 

"I  would  like  to  get  married,"  said  Molly  very 
deliberately  after  a  moment.  And  then,  at  the  peal 
of  laughter  that  greeted  her  confession,  she  explained, 
in  the  most  matter-of-fact  way,  "  I  never  thought  of 
it  before  until  to-day.  You  see,  if  I  had  a  kind  of  a 
shiftless  husband,  and  ever  so  many  children,  and  not 
too  much  money,  I  could  sew  and  cook  and  wash  and 
rush  things,  because  it  would  be  my  duty.  I  hate 
puttering  around  a  house  full  of  servants,  and  being 
so  genteel :  I  feel  like  a  fool !  " 

Molly  gave  her  coarse  black  hair  a  toss,  and  writhed 
in  her  chair  until  it  creaked  with  her  weight.  Doro- 
thy gave  her  a  long,  searching  look.  Hester  knew 
by  intuition  what  ailed  the  girl.  The  Howells  came 
of  a  strong,  hard-working  stock  on  the  father's  side. 
In  Molly  had  returned  the  body  and  mind  of  some 
aunt  or  grandmother  who  had  been  a  good-hearted, 
sensible  housewife,  —  a  spinner,  churner,  bread-maker, 
a  stirring,  conscientious  mother  of  vigorous  children. 
Molly's  mother  did  not  understand  that  out  of  such 
material  she  could  no  more  make  a  girl  full  of  airs, 


140  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

graces,  arts,  accomplishments,  and  coquetry,  than  one 
could  turn  a  pound  of  sweet  country  butter  into  a 
frothy  Charlotte  Russe. 

Dorothy  studied  Molly  during  all  the  rest  of  the 
interview  with  a  certain  new  interest.  At  last  she 
exclaimed  with  vivacity,  "  Will  you  take  a  ride  with 
me,  Molly,  to-morrow  afternoon  ? " 

"  I  should  be  delighted  to  do  so,"  she  answered. 

"  Very  well :  I  will  call  for  you  about  four  o'clock. 
I  am  going  to  the  swamp  for  some  ferns,  and  have 
two  or  three  errands  besides." 

Soon  Molly  remembered  that  her  mother  wished 
her  to  go  shopping  for  her,  and  went  away  yawning. 
She  had  not  made  a  fruitless  visit,  however :  she  had 
suggested  several  ideas  to  Miss  Dorothy,  and  Doro- 
thy's ideas  were  busy  little  workers. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"  One  of  Marion  s  Sort" 

IT  was  one  of  these  rainy  days  that  people  call 
"  old-fashioned,"  as  if  modern  weather  were  light 
and  trifling  in  kind.  Uncle  Pepperfield  had  business 
in  the  city  which  Marion  begged  him  to  delay,  but  he 
could  not.  All  day  the  rain  poured  against  the  win- 
dows, blotting  out  the  landscape,  beating  on  the 
panes  as  if  enraged  at  the  cheer  and  comfort  within. 
Jack  made  telephones  and  fire-engines,  boiled  mo- 
lasses candy,  and  rehearsed  to  the  black  cook  a 
medley  of  "  Rip  Van  Winkle,"  "  Robinson  Crusoe," 
and  "The  Last  of  the  Mohicans."  In  the  afternoon 
it  grew  dark  very  early ;  and  that,  with  the  chill  in 
the  air,  suggested  to  Dinah  that  aunt  Pepperfield 
made  a  fire  on  such  days.  So  she  brought  an  armful 
of  wood,  and  soon  had  a  great  blaze  in  the  dining- 
room  grate,  with  which  to  greet  Mr.  Pepperfield  on 
his  return.  The  brightness  drew  Marion  from  her 
book,  and  Jack  nestled  down  with  her  in  the  soft  rug 
on  the  hearth.  She  was  building  a  rather  lofty  castle 

141 


142  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

on  the  top  of  a  particularly  rosy  flame,  when  in  came 
Dinah  again  with  a  large  envelope  and  a  "  Spec  dis 
here  is  fur  you  :  one  of  de  neighbors  fotched  it  as  he 
was  gwine  along  home."  Marion,  seeing  in  the  cor- 
ner the  printed  words,  "  Office  of  'The  Phoenix,'" 
tore  it  open  a  little  more  eagerly  than  usual,  and 
read  these  lines  in  a  singularly  black  and  ugly  hand- 
writing :  — 

Miss  MARION  PRESCOTT. 

Dear  Madam,  —  Your  article  has  been  read  and  approved. 
We  accept  it  with  thanks.  Payment  on  publication. 

Respectfully, 

W.  CRAIG. 

"Very  good,  very  good,  brother  Craig!"  said 
Marion ;  while  Jack  looked  up  to  see  whom  she  was 
addressing  so  fraternally,  but  did  not  find  out.  Soon 
Dinah  came  back  again,  this  time  to  set  the  table ; 
for  Mr.  Pepperfield  would  be,  she  declared,  "hungry 
as  a  bar,"  after  walking  up  hill  from  the  station  in 
the  wind  and  rain.  Her  task  done,  and  the'  firelight 
dancing  gayly  over  the  silver  and  china,  she  retired 
to  fill  the  air  with  the  aroma  of  coffee.  Soon,  loud 
above  the  tumult  of  the  storm,  arose  a  shrill  screech 
from  the  approaching  engine. 

"There  comes  uncle  Pepper!"  cried  Jack,  as  if  the 
old  gentleman  was  entirely  responsible  for  the  signal. 


"ONE  OF  MARION'S  SORT."  143 

He  gave  the  fire  a  poke,  and  hopped  off  the  rug  to 
watch  Marion  go  and  fill  a  vase  with  scarlet  gera- 
niums, and  put  it  on  the  table,  remarking,  the  while, 
that  it  was  just  the  color  of  the  pretty  sack  she  had 
put  on  for  comfort. 

Ten  minutes  later  she  heard  a  step,  and  hurried 
forward  to  open  the  outer  door.  Uncle  Pepperfield 
it  was,  dripping  like  a  fountain,  and  behind  him 
another  umbrella,  held  much  higher,  under  it,  as  she 
discovered,  another  man,  who  was  hospitably  pushed 
in,  and  introduced. 

"  Look  at  that,  now,  Craig ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Pep- 
perfield, catching  sight  of  the  blazing  fire.  "  Did  I 
not  tell  you  you  would  find  something  better  here 
than  away  over  the  hill  in  your  bachelor's  boarding- 
house  ? " 

"  Did  I  say  I  doubted  it,  Mr.  Pepperfield  ?  " 

"  Why,  if  it  isn't  you ! "  cried  Jack,  ceasing  to 
embrace  the  ancient  cat,  and  presenting  himself 
before  Mr.  Craig  with  a  radiant  visage.  "  Don't  you 
remember  me  and  aunt  Marion  ?  And  are  you  al- 
ways on  the  cars  when  it  rains  ? " 

"  I  had  forgotten  you  until  this  moment,"  said  Mr. 
Craig;  "but  I  will  make  amends  for  it,  my  boy." 

From  Jack  his  glance  returned  to  the  lady  playing 
hostess  in  Madame  Pepperfield's  place ;  and  he  was 
certainly  aware  that  he  had  seen  her  before,  and  that 


144  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

not  alone  in  the  cars.  Mr.  Pepperfield  saw  his  per- 
plexity, and  exclaimed,  "  Yes  :  you  have  seen  her 
before.  She  called  on  you,  but  you  did  not  ask  her 
to  stay  to  tea.  Now,  when  you  return  her  article,  if 
you  say  any  thing  saucy  about  it,  I  will  shoot  you. 
She  is  under  my  protection." 

"  I  accepted  Miss  Prescott's  article  yesterday  ;  and 
I  wondered  greatly  where  in  Ingleside  there  was  a 
lady  capable  of  writing  it.  I  did  not  suppose  I  should 
follow  my  letter,  or,  it  may  be,  precede  it." 

"No:  I  have  it  already,"  said  Marion,  trying  to 
stop  Mr.  Pepperfield,  who  shamelessly  continued, 
"  You  might  have  known  her  several  weeks  ago ; 
but,  when  I  proposed  asking  you  to  tea,  she  said  she 
had  no  great  opinion  of  literary  people,  and  would 
not  be  one  herself  if  she  could  help  it.  Editors  in 
particular  she  regarded  as  necessary  evils,  to  be  en- 
dured, not  encouraged,  and  "  — 

"Don't  you  pay  the  least  attention  to  his  false- 
hoods, Miss  Prescott,"  said  the  guest,  taking  an  easy- 
chair  by  the  fire.  "  Since  his  last  defeat  at  chess,  he 
has  tried  every  way  to  injure  me.  He  would  not 
have  asked  me  here  to-night,  if  Mrs.  Pepperfield  had 
not  told  him  he  must  once  in  so  often." 

Dinah  appeared,  beaming  over  a  platter  of  fried 
oysters ;  and  the  cold  and  hungry  gentlemen  were 
not  averse  to  satisfying  their  sharpened  appetites. 


"ONE  OF  MARION'S  SORT."  145 

The  conversation  ran  on  cheerily.  Mr.  Craig  had 
recently  returned  from  a  trip  to  California  ;  and  they 
talked  of  the  West,  until  Jack  unexpectedly  put  forth 
a  conundrum  fearfully  made ;  when  the  editor  of 
"  The  Phoenix "  supplied  him  with  a  worse  one  for 
some  other  occasion.  After  supper  Marion  brought 
out  the  chess-board,  that  they  might  not  feel  bound 
to  entertain  her,  and  the  game  began. 

Mr.  Pepperfield  was  a  player  who  took  quarter- 
hours  between  his  moves  for  deliberation,  —  intervals 
that  Mr.  Craig  improved  by  talking  with  Marion. 
At  first  they  spoke  only  of  general  matters  ;  but, 
after  a  while,  Marion  found  herself  telling  quite 
fully  of  her  work,  of  what  she  had  written,  and  why 
she  had  not  written  otherwise  than  she  had. 

"  I  liked  your  article,"  said  Mr.  Craig,  "  because  I 
saw  it  had  not  been  easily  written  in  some  library, 
with  a  note-book  and  pencil.  There  is  a  class  of 
would-be  essayists  who  must  be  bankrupt  in  an  hour, 
if  books  were  banks,  and  could  close'  when  there  was 
too  great  a  run  on  them.  I  know  more  than  one 
individual  who  flourishes,  like  the  pot  of  green  basil, 
on  somebody's  else  brains." 

"  What  is  the  use  of  wearing  out  your  own  head  in 
trying  to  be  original,"  argued  Mr.  Pepperfield,  "if 
you  can  use  some  other  fellow's,  and  the  public  in 
general  not  know  the  difference  ?  When  I  write  for 


146  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

the  press,  I  shall  keep  a  'common-place'  book,  as 
they  used  to  call  them." 

"  And  it  may  be  we  shall  call  your  articles  by  the 
same  title,"  laughed  Mr.  Craig. 

"  Uncle  Pepperfield  !  "  broke  in  Jack,  who  found 
the  conversation  stupid,  "you  must  come  out  to 
the  grove  to-morrow,  and  see  our  aquarium.  I  have 
got  about  a  dozen  Pilgrim  Progress  folks  paddling 
around  in  it.  Apollyon  is  the  biggest  old  bull-frog 
you  ever  heard  croak;  and  there  is  Great  Heart  and 
Christina,  and  the  boy  that  ate  Beelzebub's  apples, 
and  Mr.  Brisk,  who  was  Mercy's  beau  you  know  —  or 
he  wanted  to  be.  He  is  a  tadpole,  and  she  is  the 
cutest  little  green  toad." 

"  What  a  moral  and  instructive  exhibition  it  must 
be,  Jack  !  "  said  Mr.  Craig.  "  Can  I  be  allowed  to  see 
it  when  I  have  a  holiday  ?  " 

"Yes,  you  can,  sir,"  continued  Jack,  determined 
to  keep  the  floor,  now  he  had  it.  "  Once  I  had  one 
at  home,  three  mud-turtles  in  a  pail  in  the  back- 
yard ;  but,  when  they  were  in  the  water,  Granty  said 
they  gasped  for  air,  and  must  be  tired  swimming 
around  and  around :  if  I  took  them  out,  she  said  they 
looked  all  parched  up,  and  pawed  out  in  misery.  I 
just  went  and  heaved  them  into  the  creek,  where  I 
wouldn't  be  bothered  to  tell  if  they  were  happy  or 
not.  —  O  uncle !  "  he  cried,  getting  more  excited, 


"ONE   OF  MARION'S  SORT."  147 

"  Hester  says  she  is  going  to  have  hens  and  roosters 
soon.  Then  won't  we  have  a  nice  lot  of  animals  !  — 
Old  Mortality,  Buttercup,  and  the  big  dog.  Dorothy 
hates  hens.  Uncle  Jack  used  to  hate  them  too  :  he 
said  they  were  spluttering;  tedious  old  fusses." 

There  was  nothing  in  Jack's  chatter  to  interest  a 
stranger  ;  but,  listening  to  it,  Mr.  Craig  found  him- 
self bewildered  to  know  where  he  had  heard  some- 
thing like  it  before.  Hester,  Granty,  uncle  Jack ! 
He  knew  no  such  persons ;  yet  he  had  heard  their 
names,  and  that  recently.  Was  it  only  that  day  with 
Jack  on  the  cars  ?  He  let  Mr.  Pepperfield  get  the 
advantage  of  him  in  chess.  He  forgot  to  talk  until 
he  remembered  the  letter  and  the  photograph.  He 
looked  keenly  then  at  the  little  lady,  whose  fingers 
were  moving  quickly  through  a  heap  of  snowy  wool, 
and  he  was  as  sure  that  he  had  her  picture  in  his 
keeping  as  he  was  puzzled  to  know  how  he  came  by 
it  in  the  first  place. 

He  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  while  uncle  Pepper- 
field  gloated  over  his  prospective  victory.  He  finally 
said,  "Miss  Prescott,  I  must  have  met  you  here  in 
previous  years :  your  face  is  not  quite  that  of  a 
stranger ;  or  perhaps  I  have  seen  a  picture  of  you 
here,  and  grown  familiar  with  that." 

"No,"  said  uncle  Pepperfield.  "We  have  n0t  a 
picture  of  one  of  you  girls.  Hester  promised  me 
u^c  of  hers." 


148  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

"  I  sent  aunt  Pepperfield  one  of  myself  last  spring. 
Perhaps  you  have  seen  that,  Mr.  Craig.  I  do  not 
think  I  ever  saw  you  before  I  came  to  Ingleside  this 
time." 

"Huldah  never  showed  me  any  picture,"  persisted 
Mr.  Pepperfield.  "  I  do  not  believe  we  ever  received 
it,  or  it  would  certainly  have  been  on  the  wall  in  a 
fancy  frame  of  some  sort.  She  delights  in  such 
things." 

"  Oh,  I  sent  it,  uncle  !  for  I  remember  what  a  long, 
long  letter,  all  of  family  doings,  went  with  it,"  re- 
sponded Marion.  To  which  Mr.  Pepperfield  made 
answer  thus,  "  Well,  perhaps  it  is  among  the  '  articles 
•of  virtue  and  bigotry  '  at  the  dead-letter  office." 

Mr.  Craig  applied  himself  to  the  chess-board  with 
a  smile  that  caused  uncle  Pepperfield  to  twit  him  of 
trying  to  "  grin  and  bear  it,"  it  being  the  probable  loss 
of  the  game.  When  he  had  lost  it  beyond  dispute, 
he  returned  to  Marion,  saying,  "  You  have  never  sent 
any  article  before  this  to  '  The  Phoenix  '  ?  " 

"  No,  I  have  not.  Several  months  ago  I  wrote  one 
for  it ;  but  after  it  was  ready,  even  to  the  address,  I 
decided  it  was  not  suitable.  You  had  a  narrow 
escape,  you  see." 

Uncle  Pepperfield  pushed  aside  the  chess-board, 
and  took  Jack  on  his  knee.  As  the  evening  ad- 
vanced, he  was  pleased  to  remark  the  variety  of 


"ONE  OF  MARION'S  SORT."  149 

topics  discussed  by  these  two  "  literary  characters," 
as  he  persisted  in  calling  them.  When  the  conver- 
sation was  most  animated,  he  settled  back  in  a 
sleepy-hollow  chair,  and  closed  his  eyes  in  medita- 
tion. Two  hours  later,  a  gentle  snore  brought  Mr. 
Craig  to  his  feet,  and  uncle  Pepperfield  back  to  con- 
sciousness. Jack  was  found  to  be  fast  asleep  in  the 
hearth-rug ;  and  good-nights  were  in  order.  Mr. 
Craig  forgave  Mr.  Pepperfield  for  glorying  in  his 
victory,  expressed  his  pleasure  at  meeting  Miss 
Prescott,  and  went  home. 

"  Good  fellow  that,  as  ever  lived,"  said  Mr.  Pepper- 
field,  locking  the  door  behind  him.  "  I'm  glad  I  met 
him  on  the  train  to-night." 

The  next  day  Marion  had  a  letter  from  Granty, 
which  ran  thus  :  — 

MY  DEAR  CHILD,  —  I  suppose  you  think  it  strange  that  I 
have  not  taken  time  to  write  you ;  but  you  know  how  full  my 
hands  always  are.  I  often  wonder  what  will  become  of  you  all 
when  I  am  laid  aside.  Your  uncle  Jack  used  to  say  that  the 
Lord  always  provided  for  the  lame  and  the  lazy,  and  as  a  family 
I  do  think  we  have  great  reason  to  praise  him.  I  presume 
Hester  told  you  of  the  tea-party.  On  my  own  account,  I  should 
not  have  thought  of  such  an  undertaking;  but  your  aunt  Pepper 
is  fond  of  society,  and,  if  you  girls  would  have  friends,  you 
must  show  yourselves  friendly.  We  all  enjoyed  it ;  Dorothy's 
cake  and  salads  were  excellent,  and  my  raised  biscuit  were  light 


150  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

as  feathers.  Mrs.  Howells  complimented  them  greatly,  and 
well  she  might:  hers  are  often  heavy  as  lead  when  she  has 
company.  They  have  a  house  full  of  company  over  there  now, 
from  the  West,  and  we  have  taken  in  Mr.  Severn.  Hester 
likes  him  very  much  :  she  says  he  hasn't  any  piosity,  whatever 
she  may  mean  by  that.  I  was  actually  afraid  she  would  not  be 
civil  to  him,  you  know  she  is  so  queer  sometimes ;  but  yester- 
day she  took  him  in  the  phaeton  six  or  seven  miles  to  see  one 
of  his  sick  parishioners.  He  was  driving,  and  telling  her  about 
a  day  he  spent  in  the  ruins  of  Karnac.  She  had  her  parasol 
before  her  eyes  to  keep  out  the  sun,  and  did  not  know  he  was 
absent-minded  when  interested  in  talking.  The  first  thing  Hes- 
ter knew,  he  had  driven  right  down  a  narrow  lane,  and  brought 
the  horse's  nose  blunt  up  against  the  back  of  a  shed.  They  had 
to  get  out  and  unharness,  and  back  out  the  horse  and  carriage, 
and  altogether  had  a  ridiculous  time.  Hester  says  it  was  like 
nothing  but  the  doings  of  that  absurd  Peterkin  family,  in  Jack's 
magazine.  By  the  way,  are  you  reading  that  serial  in  the  "New 
Monthly"?  It  is  a  most  miserable  mess.  The  scene  is  laid  in 
New  England,  about  fifty  years  ago.  and  the  writer  does  not 
know  what  she  is  trying  to  write  about.  I  was  just  twenty 
years  old  at  that  time,  and  I  assure  you  I  saw  such  society  as 
you  never  have  seen,  and  probably  never  will  see.  This  writer 
attempts  to  describe  the  etiquette  of  the  first  circles  of  Massa- 
chusetts and  the  old  aristocracy  of  the  time.  O  Marion  !  When 
I  recollect  the  dinners  at  old  Col.  Winchester's  (my  mother's 
half-brother),  and  those  at  my  aunt  Atherton's,  —  the  silver,  the 
china,  the  wines,  the  venerable  servants  as  stalely  as  their 
masters  and  mistresses,  —  I  realize  what  has  passed  away  for- 
ever. Such  a  namby-pamby  description  as  this  one  I  speak  of 
makes  me  indignant.  If  I  had  time  and  practice,  I  would  try 
something  of  the  sort  myself.  Only  to  tell  of  the  balls  I  have 


"ONE   OF  MARIONS  SORT:'1  151 

attended !  the  dresses  and  jewels  I  have  seen  !  There  is 
nothing  imported  like  them  nowadays,  I  am  sure.  The  Howells 
were  very  much  dressed  at  our  tea-party.  Blanche  had  a  very 
uncouth-looking  blue  silk  thing  on,  although  Dorothy  says  it 
was  very  stylish.  I  suppose  I  am  behind  the  times.  It  is  really 
deplorable  to  be  wrapped  up  in  the  world  and  the  things  that 
perish  with  the  using.  Now,  Marion,  I  have  done  something 
that  I  fear  you  will  not  like.  Hester  censured  me  quite  severe- 
ly ;  but  I  had  no  idea  of  doing  any  thing  out  of  the  way.  There 
came  along  a  distressed  creature,  with  a  printed  paper,  saying 
she  had  nine  children  scattered  along  between  here  and  Al- 
bany, where  she  wanted  to  get  to  friends.  Her  husband  was 
sick,  and,  dear  me  !  I  can't  tell  her  troubles !  I  looked  for 
something  to  give  her,  and  came  across  that  drab  poplin  of 
yours.  I  thought  you  must  have  got  a  good  deal  of  wear  out 
of  it,  and  would  not  mind  :  so  I  let  her  have  it.  Hester  says 
you  had  not  worn  it  much.  If  this  is  true,  I  am  sorry ;  but  it 
cannot  be  helped.  You  know  the  Bible  says,  "  He  that  giveth 
to  the  poor  lendeth  to  the  Lord."  I  do  wish  such  creatures 
would  not  come  along,  and  put  me  in  such  positions.  There  is 
that  rag-and-tin  man  !  I  gave  him,  six  weeks  ago,  two  suits  of 
your  uncle's  clothes  out  of  the  garret,  and  he  has  only  brought 
me  one  small  tin  dipper.  How  can  people  be  so  unprincipled  ? 
It  makes  me  sick  of  living  sometimes.  Dorothy  paid  the  fire- 
insurance  yesterday.  It  seems  a  great  waste  of  money;  for  we 
never  get  any  return  for  it :  we  may  some  day,  however.  It  is 
hard  to  conduct  this  great  house  economically.  I  do  my  best, 
and  often  reason  with  your  sisters.  They  make  many  expendi- 
tures /do  not  think  judicious,  like  this  never-ending  tax-paying. 
I  tell  them  I  would  have  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  it  any 
more.  Mrs.  Howells  is  making  a  beautiful  hearth-rug  of  a  new 
kind  of  wool  and  silk  floss.  She  bought  the  pattern,  materials, 


152  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

and  a  book  of  directions,  at  Colburn's,  near  Fourteenth  Street. 
You  might  just  inquire  how  they  sell  them,  when  you  are  in  the 
city  some  time.  I  do  not  get  out  much,  and  I  like  some  little 
work  of  this  sort  when  I  am  too  tired  to  read.  Take  good  care 
of  yourself  and  of  Jack.  Don't  let  him  get  lost,  if  you  take  him 
into  the  city.  We  miss  you,  but  hope  you  are  having  a  pleas- 
ant time. 

Your  affectionate  aunt. 

"O  Granty,  Granty!"  cried  Marion,  "my  pretty 
poplin  with  the  silk  vest,  and  buttons  that  cost  one 
dollar  a  dozen,  and  now  '  scattered  between  there 
and  Albany ' !  And  Hester  goes  philandering  down 
a  lane  that  has  no  turning,  and  never  considers  how 
she  is  to  get  out.  Ominous  lane !  Talking  about 
the  ruins  of  Karnac  !  I  wish  he  had  spent  all  his  days 
there  instead  of  one.  I  wish  aunt  Pepperfield  would 
come  home !  I  am  tempted  to  crack  a  china  cup,  and 
tell  her  Dinah  did  it,  and  that  she  acts  as  if  she  had 
started  on  a  mad  career  of  more  cracks.  I  will  write 
Hester  myself :  perhaps  she  needs  to  hear  from  me." 

"Aunt  Marion,  come  down  stairs!  uncle  Pepper- 
field  wants  you  to  see  his  day  lilies,"  cried  Jack. 
And  Marion  went. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Part  of  a  Letter  from  Marion  to  Hester. 


"  T  THINK  Mr.  Severn  must  be  a  harmless  sort  of  a  person, 
J[  although  I  shall  be  sorry  to  find  him  settled  under  our  vine 
and  fig-tree  when  I  get  home.  Tell  Dorothy  not  to  let  him  fall 
a  victim  to  her  seductive  good-nature.  I  neither  wish  him 
troubled  by  a  fruitless  passion,  nor  do  I  wish  Dorothy  sacri- 
ficed. How  can  a  woman  be  deluded  enough  to  marry  a  minis- 
ter, no  matter  how  good  he  is  !  If  he  is  puffed  up  by  conceit 
and  spiritual  arrogance,  as  many  of  them  are —  What  does  she 
do  ?  She  herself  must  marry  the  parish,  no  matter  what  is  said 
to  the  contrary ;  and  then,  if  she  is  faulty,  she  will  be  shot 
through  and  through  like  St.  Sebastian.  If  she  is  lovely,  she 
will  realize,  just  the  same,  that  she  has  no  continuing  city  here 
this  side  of  paradise.  Think  of  having  no  permanent  home,  of 
always  planting  flowers  for  the  next-comer  to  pick,  of  having 
every  little  while  to  box  up  what  Mrs.  Partington  calls  your 
'  liars  and  peanuts,'  and  be  like  poor  Jo,  forever  moving  on,  to 
unpack  them  all  broken,  to  have  your  carpets  misfitted  through 
all  time,  to  be  snubbed  and  patronized,  and  insulted  with  dona- 
tion-parties !  Then  there  is  something  worse  than  all  the  rest. 
Ho\v  terribly  bored  an  intelligent  woman  would  be,  after  a  while, 
by  having  always  to  listen  to  her  own  husband's  sermons  !  It  is 

'53 


154  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

impossible  not  to  know  the  intellectual  limitations  of  most  mor- 
tals with  whom  we  live  long.  We  may  never  get  to  the  end  of 
their  goodness,  be  often  surprised  by  their  heroism  ;  but  we  do 
find  out  just  about  what  they  will  say,  think,  and  write,  under 
every  ordinary  circumstance.  It  would  not  be  of  the  least  con- 
sequence if  one's  husband  were  a  companion  merely  ;  but  as  a 
teacher,  always  teaching  you  in  sentences  that  from  previous 
associations  you  could  finish  for  him,  if  he  choked  midway  ; 
preaching  after  a  fashion  you  know,  as  one  knows  a  wall-paper 
at  which  one  has  gazed  for  years  —  the  idea  is  dreadful !  Doro- 
thy could  not  endure  it.  But  I  forgot  that  I  was  not  writing  an 
essay  on  ministers'  wives  —  poor  wretches  ! 

"  Tell  aunt  Huldah  that  Mr.  Craig  comes  very  often  to  play 
chess  with  uncle  Pepperfield.  She  will  tell  you  about  him.  I 
congratulate  myself  upon  having  made  his  acquaintance.  He 
teaches  me  much,  that,  if  I  had  known  before,  would  have  been 
of  great  value  to  me  in  my  literary  work.  I  mean  not  so  much 
in  regard  to  what  or  how  to  write  as  to  matters  of  understand- 
ing among  editors  and  journalists.  Then  he  is  a  sharp  critic: 
a  beggarly  thought  in  a  fine  coat  gets  sent  flying  the  moment 
he  espies  it.  My  characters  have  to  prove  their  reasons  for 
being,  for  doing,  and  for  suffering.  If  they  are  stuffed  with 
sawdust,  they  collapse  :  if  they  are  crude  in  aim,  or  lacking  in 
finish,  if  I  have  narrated  events  where  I  should  have  cast  a 
scene,  I  am  told  of  it  all  with  great  clearness.  Moreover,  Mr. 
Craig  is  very  companionable,  and  seems  a  big-brother  sort  of 
man,  roguish  and  warm-hearted,  so  that  Jack  adores  him  "... 


Hester  received  this  letter  one  morning  in  the 
barn,  whither  she  had  gone  to  see  if  Pete  had  given 
the  cow  pumpkins  cut  in  pieces  suited  for  mastica- 


LETTER  FROM  MARION  TO  HESTER.          155 

tion.  He  had  been  to  the  post-office,  and  taken  out 
this  letter,  which  she  began  to  read  carelessly. 
"  Dorothy  a  minister's  wife  !  She  must  be  wild  ! 
—  Pete,  don't  you  twitch  Buttercup's  head.  A  cow 
should  be  treated  very  gently  :  they  don't  like  rough 
handling. 

"  Mr.  Craig  again  !  She  writes  about  him  in  each 
letter.  '  Comes  often  to  play  chess,  —  very  compan- 
ionable !  '  ' 

Hester  suddenly  sent  a  peck-measure  spinning 
from  her  toe,  half  across  the  barn,  toward  Pete,  who 
was  looking  for  it,  and  said  sharply,  "  Nail  up  that 
hole  under  the  meal-bin,  or  the  rats  will  get  into  the 
meal." 

Out  of  the  envelope  fell  a  note,  unseen  before.  It 
was  unmistakably  in  Jack's  hieroglyphics. 

DEAR  ANT  HESTER, —  It  is  jolly  here.  Dinah  is  awful 
fat,  and  shiny  black.  She  makes  me  tarts  every  single  day. 
Ant  Marion  wishes  she  would  not,  because  I  have  the  stomach- 
ache sometimes :  that's  nothin' ;  for  Granty  says  children 
always  have  growing-pains.  If  anybody  comes  this  way.  please 
send  me  a  roll  of  brass  wire  I  left,  and  a  box  of  awl  sized  nails, 
portickelarly  brads ;  also  My  Pig-Sticker  sled,  in  case  it  snows 
before  I  return.  Mr.  Craig  comes  to  see  Ant  Marion  most  as 
often  as  Bridget  O'Flarity's  cousin  comes  to  our  house ;  but 
his  hair  is  not  red.  It  is  a  stationary  thing  for  him  to  come 
evenings.  Dinah  wares  a  Big  Green  ring,  her  wedding  one.  I 
asked  her  where  her  Husband  was,  and  she  said  she  "  specked 


156  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

he  was  a-plowin'  the  red-hot  furrows  of  hell."  Ant  Marion  was 
Shocked.  She  said  it  was  dreadful  to  say ;  and  Dinah,  she 
said,  "  What's  de  use  a-curtailin'  de  troof."  If  it  is  wicket  to 
repeat  this,  you  had  better  skip  it.  Mr.  Craig  is  a  writin'-fellow 
too,  like  Ant  Marion.  I  wish  they'd  write  a  newspaper  to- 
gether, and  let  me  screech  it  around  like  the  New-York  Boys. 
She  could  make  the  stories,  and  he  put  in  the  dry  stuff.  He 
says  maybe  he  would.  I  must  go  to  bed.  Good-night,  and 
pleasant  dreams. 

JACK  PRESCOTT. 

P.S.  —  Hens  have  the  pip  and  the  yawns  —  no  gapes — I 
have  heard  since  I  got  here.  You  better  study  about  these  in 
the  medical  books.  If  we  keep  'em,  we  don't  want  sick  hens 
a-sprawling  around  our  handsome  coop,  if  we  ever  have  one. 
Also.  If  You  should  Shave  old  mortality's  Hair  close  to  his 
Skin,  he  will  be  mouse-color;  and  this  is  Stylish  for  horses.  I 
will  ask  if  it  is  done  with  a  Razor.  I  do  pray  for  myself  now. 
Ant  Marion  puts  me  in  mind  of  it,  and  for  all  the  rest  of  you. 
I  send  my  best  love  to  Granty.  JACK. 

Jack's  letter  only  deepened  the  cloud  on  Hester's 
countenance.  She  thrust  it  into  her  pocket,  and 
went  about  the  barn,  finding  out  Pete's  delinquen- 
cies, and  visiting  them  on  his  head  like  Nemesis  her- 
self. She  returned  to  the  house,  and  wasted  no 
words  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you  ? "  asked  Dorothy 
at  night.  Hester  had  entered  the  latter's  bedroom, 
and  was  leaning  grimly  over  the  foot  of  her  couch. 

"  Marion  will  make  a  fool  of  herself,"  she  answered. 


LETTER  FROM  MARION  TO  HESTER.  157 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"Why,  she  will  just  get  infatuated  with  that  editor. 
Aunt  Huldah  says  he  is  handsome  and  cultured,  and 
so  on.  I  do  not  like  it  at  all.  I  wish  she  had  never 
gone  to  Ingleside.  Here  we  three  are,  old  enough 
to  be  done  with  such  nonsense.  I  don't -wish  to  get 
married ;  you  don't  :  why  should  she.  We  can  be 
so  perfectly  independent  here  by  ourselves,  —  no  one 
to  order,  interfere,  or  to  criticise  us  ;  but  let  her 
bring  a  man  in,  and  think  of  it !  We  all  must  re- 
volve around  him  like  satellites.  He  says  this,  or  he 
likes  that  and  the  other." 

"  Nonsense  !  "  said  Dorothy  :  "  you  are  a  goose 
yourself.  Do  you  suppose  the  editor  of  the  largest 
journal  of  its  sort  in  the  country  is  going  to  bury 
himself  in  a  little  village,  for  the  sake  of  domineering 
over  one  old  lady  and  two  poor  creatures  like  you 
and  me  ?" 

"  Well,  then  it  is  all  the  worse :  Marion  will  leave 
us.  They,  being  two  blue  lights,  will  become  one, 
and  he  will  be  it.  She  never  will  write  that  book  that 
is  to  make  the  family  glorious  :  she  will  settle  down 
to  mending  his  gloves,  and  quoting  his  opinions.  If 
she  "wanted  to  marry,  why  didn't  she  take  that  rich 
young  Sprague  years  ago?" 

"He  was  not  half  baked,  Hester :  he  was  a  regular 
dough-head." 


158  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

"  I  know.  But  he  only  lived  six  months,  though, 
to  be  sure,  she  could  not  have  relied  upon  that 
beforehand,"  returned  Hester,  with  such  solemn 
animosity,  that  Dorothy  was  moved  to  inquire  if  Mr. 
Craig  had  said  any  thing  of  significance  matrimo- 
nially to  Marion. 

Hester  gravely  wagged  her  head,  and  went  on  like 
a  judge  charging  a  jury.  "You  see,  Marion  may 
have  been  turning  soft  this  long  time,  and  we  not 
realize  it.  She  has  written  many  stories  :  they  had 
to  be  more  or  less  love  stories,  or  the  public  was  not 
suited  :  so  a  gradual  demoralization  has  been  going 
on  in  her,  perhaps  "  — • 

"  Do  you  think  it  demoralizing  to  fall  in  love  ?  " 
asked  Dorothy  meekly. 

"  Certainly.  Her  principles  being  in  this  way 
undermined,  she  goes  to  Ingleside,  meets  this  re- 
markable man  of  similar  tastes,  and  anybody  can 
foresee  the  result." 

"  Marion  is  young  yet,"  returned  Dorothy  reflec- 
tively,—  "young  and  very  good-looking,  intellectual, 
and  nice.  I  do  not  know  why  she  should  not  marry. 
I  never  settled  it  that  she  should  not." 

"  I  had,"  said  Hester  firmly. 

"  And  for  me  ?  " 

"Certainly." 

"Well,  I  am  obliged  to   you,"  returned   Dorothy 


LETTER  FROM  MARION  TO  HESTER.          159 

frankly ;  "  but  if  a  good,  agreeable  man,  with  some 
money,  ever  wants  me,  and  I  want  him,  I  shall  do  as 
I  please." 

The  surprise  on  Hester's  face  was  really  unfeigned  ; 
and,  to  Dorothy's  pointed  question  that  followed,  she 
gave  also  a  direct  answer. 

"To  be  sure,"  said  Dorothy,  "we  are  not  young 
girls  any  longer ;  we  have  no  property,  nor  much 
beauty,  and  we  shall  probably  never  be  led  into 
temptation  :  but  don't  you  ever  think  of  a  possi- 
bility ?" 

"A  possibility?"  echoed  Hester,  with  a  toss  of 
her  head  very  fine  in  its  way.  "  With  such  actuali- 
ties as  having  to  find  Old  Mortality  in  horse-feed, 
oats  at  the  price  they  are  now  ;  or  experimenting  on 
that  Jersey  cow,  to  know  what  food  is  best  for  milk ; 
with,  bearing  on  my  mind  the  potato-barrel,  the 
locking  of  the  doors  at  night,  the  mixing  complex- 
ions for  all  the  faces  I've  had  to  paint  lately ;  and 
the  administering  cough-drops  and  yellow  mixture  to 
uncle  Jack's  old  patients ;  trying  to  make  myself 
happy,  moreover,  in  the  belief  that  we  shall  always 
live  on  the  fat  of  the  land,  because  Granty  came  from 
Massachusetts,  —  with  *  all  this,  Dorothy  Prescott, 
what  time  do  you  suppose  I  find  to  muse,  like  Aga- 
memnon, '  on  things  that  never  are  to  be  '  ?  " 

Dorothy  was  impressed  ;  but  she  ventured  to  ask 
how  she  knew  that  Agamemnon  ever  did  it. 


160  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

"  Well,  if  you  must  know,  I  read  it  in  Mr.  Severn's 
translated  'Iliad,'  in  the' office,  which  is  already  half- 
full  of  his  books.  Oh  !  I  tell  you,  Dorothy,  the 
Philistines  are  upon  us  from  more  directions  than 
one." 

"  Never  mind ;  go  to  bed,"  returned  her  sister. 
"  I  am  sleepy ;  and  I  do  not  believe  but  that  Marion 
can  take  care  of  herself.  I  never  saw  a  Prescott 
who  could  not." 

Hester  went,  muttering  ominously. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

An  October  Day. 

MR.  CRAIG  was  driving  slowly  up  the  hill  at 
Ingleside,  going  toward  Mr.  Pepperfield's. 
This  fact  was  easily  explained  by  another :  he  was 
going  to  ask  Miss  Prescott  to  take  a  ride  with  him. 
For  a  quiet  bachelor,  Mr.  Craig  had  become  quite 
gallant  of  late :  several  people  had  remarked  upon  it 
—  but  not  to  him.  He  himself  began  to  be  conscious 
that  his  editorial  mind  was  exercised  often  with 
other  matter  than  that  which  ran  in  his  usual  line 
of  thought.  Perhaps  "exercised"  is  too  violent  a 
word :  occupied  might  be  better.  When  he  came  at 
night  from  the  city,  it  was  so  easy  to  stop  for  a  chat 
with  Mr.  Pepperfield  at  the  gate :  it  was  easier  yet 
to  go  in  for  a  game,  and  a  talk  with  Marion.  The 
more  he  saw  of  her,  the  more  her  grace  and  excel- 
lence pleased  him ;  then  she  had  a  high  order  of 
talent,  and  was  not  conceited.  He  was  thinking 
this  as  he  rode  up  the  hill,  and  was  regretting  that 
her  visit  was  drawing  near  its  end.  He  had  never 

161 


1 62  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

told  her  that  he  had  her  picture,  or  thought  it  advis- 
able to  return  the  letter.  Yes  :  he  should  be  lonely 
after  she  had  gone.  She  gave  zest  to  chess  :  she  was 
a  more  interesting  talker  than  aunt  Huldah,  and  a 
more  inspiring  listener.  Feminine  companionship 
and  sympathy  were  good  for  a  man. 

The  scholarly  editor  of  "The  Phoenix"  evolved 
this  truism  from  his  inner  consciousness  with  the 
earnestness  of  one  who  unearths  something  valuable 
seldom  brought  to  light.  He  had  not  a  thought  that 
every  Paddy  he  passed  on  the  road  had  thus  reflected 
before  he  found  his  Peggy. 

Not  that  Mr.  Craig  was  sentimental  with  any 
malice  aforethought  on  this  occasion.  He  had  not 
a  fleeting  thought-  to  ask  Marion  not  to  go  home,  or 
ever  to  come  back :  he  only  wished  that  she  would 
not  cease  to  be  where  he  could  find  her  when  he 
wanted  society. 

He  arrived  at  Mr.  Pepperfield's  in  due  time,  and 
had  only  to  wait  a  moment  before  Marion  appeared. 
She  looked  so  trim  and  rosy,  in  a  dark,  quaint  little 
hat  with  a  bright  vine  about  it,  that  he  wished  she 
had  been  a  sister  or  cousin,  or  somebody  whom  he 
might  salute  in  a  more  cordial  way  than  by  a  touch 
of  his  kid  glove  to  hers. 

"Where  shall  we  go?"  he  asked,  as  they  were 
seated  in  the  carriage. 


AN  OCTOBER  DAY.  163 

Marion  answered  promptly,  "  Let  us  see  as  much 
of  the  woods  as  possible." 

No  one  would  have  questioned  her  taste.  It  was 
the  first  day  of  October,  and  the  afternoon  was  won- 
derful. There  was  not  the  usual  haze  of  autumn  in 
the  air ;  but  the  sun  poured  down  light  as  intensely 
as  in  June.  The  fields  of  winter-wheat  showed -under 
it  the  brightest  green  that  nature  ever  gives.  Edging 
these  fields  were  hedges  of  sumach :  every  tiny  leaf 
thereon  was  a  flame  of  scarlet  or  yellow ;  and  the 
whole  showed  against  the  background  of  pine-trees, 
like  long  wreaths  and  heaped-up  garlands  of  the  gay- 
est flowers.  In  the  sparser  woods  the  foliage  of  the 
tallest  trees  was  here  and  there  unchanged  in  green, 
but  thinned  out;  so  that,  from  their  roots  to  their 
topmost  boughs,  the  red  woodbine  could  be  seen, 
intwining  them  in  exquisite  contrast  of  color.  Along 
the  roadside  the  wealth  of  beauty  was  bewildering. 
The  golden-rod  and  purple  asters  nodded  and  danced 
together  in  the  sunshine,  as  far  as  one  could  see, 
along  every  fence,  lane,  and  boundary  line.  Every 
thing  that  had  been  coarse  or  ungainly  through  the 
immature  spring  and  summer  had  come  into  a  sudden 
estate  of  grace  and  beauty.  The  bursting  milkweed- 
pods  were  shedding  silvery,  silky  treasures :  even 
the  mullein-leaves  had  turned  golden  under  the  touch 
of  a  frost  finger ;  and  in  or  over  every  broken  stone 


1 64  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

wall  crept  pretty  vines  that  waved  their  little  red 
banners  as  if  they  knew  it  was  a  brief  holiday. 
Where  the  creek  had  sunken  through  the  moss,  in 
the  low  lands,  the  tall  cat-tails  and  lush  flags  flour- 
ished ;  while  the  willow-trees  near  them  were  scat- 
tering pale-yellow  leaves  broadcast,  and  leaving  their 
own  soft  outlines  pencilled  against  the  heavenly  blue 
of  the  sky. 

Bird-song  could  still  be  heard,  though  convocations 
of  the  songsters  in  certain  trees  showed  what  they 
were  planning.  Butterflies  clustered  on  the  thistle- 
blossoms  ;  the  bees  were  so  noisy  in  the  late  clover 
and  the  buckwheat,  that  one  forgot  the  great  army 
of  insects  which  had  certainly  vanished. 

The  two  enthusiastic  admirers  of  all  this  loveliness 
were  not  talking  much  as  they  rode.  Neither  of 
them  was  ever  prodigal  with  adjectives ;  and,  as 
friends,  they  were  sufficiently  at  ease  to  be  silent 
if  they  chose.  They  frequently  stopped ;  and  Mr. 
Craig  stepped  out  of  the  carriage  for  ferns  or  flowers, 
in  tempting  looking  places  where  the  road  ran 
through  the  swamp.  At  one  point  there  was  a  rude 
settlement  in  a  pine-wood  :  there  the  sumach-bushes 
were  so  gorgeous  that  Marion  possessed  herself  of  a 
branch,  which  glowed  in  her  hand  like  fire.  She 
was  admiring  it,  when  a  child  ran  out  from  a  cabin, 
and  warned  her  that  it  was  the  poisonous  kind,  and 


AN  OCTOBER  DAY.  165 

might  make  her  sick.  She  thanked  him,  and  hid  it 
until  he  vanished,  explaining  to  Mr.  Craig  that  she 
had  handled  it  probably  many  times  before  with  no 
ill  effects. 

"  We  have  beautiful  woods  near  our  home,"  she 
continued,  "but  no  hills." 

"  I  would  like  to  see  your  home  and  your  family. 
It  seems  to  me  I  must  have  known  your  uncle,  you 
have  made  him  so  real  a  person  to  me,"  he  returned. 

"  Yes  :  we  would  like  to  see  you  there.  Dorothy 
you  would  understand  at  once,  and  like  ;  Hester  you 
would  make  nothing  of." 

Mr.  Craig  did  not  answer.  He  was  wishing  that 
Marion  would  write  to  him,  thinking  he  would  like 
to  write  to  her,  turning  it  over  in  his  own  mind  like 
this  :  "If  I  ask  her  to  correspond  with  me,  does  it 
mean  that  I  have  a  peculiar  interest  in  her  ?  Have 
I  —  if  I  have,  what  then  ?  What  should  we  write 
of  ?  I  would  wish  her  to  write  such  comical  familiar 
letters  as  that  one  to  aunt  Pepperfield.  Absurd  !  I 
am  not  her  aunt,  and  she  is  not  going  to  treat  me 
like  one.  I  have  it !  I  will  not  say  any  thing.  I 
will  write  her  from  my  office  a  business  letter,  of 
course,  but  modified,  amplified,  on  account  of  ex-offi- 
cial friendship.  When  she  answers,  I  will  find  mat- 
ter for  another  and  another  and  another.  If  she  does 
not  like  this  elasticity  of  business  relations,  she  will 


1 66  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

show  it  by  her  coolness.  If  she  does  "  —  Marion 
broke  in  with  a  very  matter-of-fact  remark  that  called 
for  a  similar  answer.  He  gave  it,  as  well  considered, 
apparently,  as  if  he  were  not  repeating  to  himself, 
"  If  she  does"  and  thinking  how  soft  her  hair  must 
be  to  the  touch,  there  where  it  waved  back  from  her 
temples,  with  the  October  light  tangled  into  its  curls 
and  loops.  Soon  after,  with  the  consistency  of  many 
another  man  in  his  situation,  —  one  who  has  but  just 
resolved  not  to  do  a  certain  thing,  —  he  said,  "  I  hope, 
Miss  Prescott,  you  will  often  send  us  some  article  for 
'The  Phoenix.'  If  you  will  allow  me,  I  can  some- 
times write  you  when  a  subject  would  be  timely,  giv- 
ing you  a  hint  how  to  work  it  up  acceptably.  You, 
perhaps,  will  give  me  occasionally  some  idea  of  what 
you  are  doing  ;  and  any  help  I  can  give  you,  you 
must  rely  on  ;  will  you  not  ? " 

Marion  thanked  him  cordially ;  and  again  they 
drifted  into  impersonal  conversation.  All  the  after- 
noon they  rode  by  cosey  farms,  where,  under  the 
low-boughed  trees  in  the  orchards,  the  men  were 
barrelling  the  heaped-up  apples,  and  children  were 
strolling  down  the  lanes  after  beechnuts.  When 
at  last  they  turned,  it  was  to  go  toward  a  sunset 
glorious  with  colors,  which  the  very  clouds  seemed 
to  have  borrowed  for  once  from  the  earth  beneath. 
Before  they  faded,  the  moon  rode  up  in  the  opposite 


AN  OCTOBER  DAY.  167 

heavens;  and  between  the  two  radiances  the  world 
was  at  its  fairest. 

"  This  has  been  the  most  perfect  day  I  have  ever 
seem,"  said  Marion. 

"  If  you  go  home  Thursday,  I  suppose  this  will  be 
your  last  drive  with  me,"  said  her  companion  slowly. 

She  replied,  not  at  all  dolorously,  that  it  would  be. 

When  they  were  once  more  home,  Mr.  Craig  re- 
fused Mr.  Pepperfield's  invitation  to  remain  to  tea, 
on  account  of  neglected  writing  to  be  attended  to 
that  evening.  He  then  drove  down  the  hill,  won- 
dering that  he  had  not  staid,  puzzled  over  a  certain 
melancholy  that  seemed  about  to  tinge  his  usually 
cheerful  views  of  life.  He  did  not  regret  any  thing 
that  afternoon  done.  He  was  not  actually  sorry  for 
those  things  he  had  left  undone.  His  vague  impres- 
sion took  form  at  last  in  the  reflection,  — 

"  Some  men,  in  my  place,  would  see  a  wife  in  that 
lady  left  behind  me.  No  one  need  wait  for  a  better 
one." 

The  editor  of  "  The  Phoenix  "  pensively  asked  him- 
self if  he  were  like  other  men,  and,  if  not,  why  not. 

He  found  a  cigar  in  his  pocket,  lighted  it,  and 
laughed  outright :  nevertheless  he  imparted  to  his 
fleet  horse  this  secret,  "  If  she  had  offered  herself  to 
me  this  afternoon  (that  being  the  proper  order  of 
things),  I  should  have  said  Yes." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

What  Came  of  Marion  s  Ride. 

HESTER  was  idling  in  the  hall  one  day,  talking 
with  aunt  Huldah,  who  was  knitting  long  red 
stockings  for  Jack,  when  Mr.  Severn  appeared  at 
what  was  an  unusual  hour  for  him.  She  could  not 
see  that  he  had  any  reason  for  coming ;  and  she  felt 
like  reproving  him  for  the  sin  of  idleness,  which  she 
herself  was  committing.  Aunt  Huldah  was  talking 
briskly,  when  Hester,  happening  to  glance  up,  re- 
ceived a  significant  look  from  Mr.  Severn,  with  a 
gesture  which  said,  "Come,  I  wish  to  speak  to 
you ; "  then  he  walked  across  the  hall,  out  on  to  the 
piazza. 

Hester,  knowing  he  must  mean  her  to  meet  him 
unobserved,  went  soon  into  the  next  room,  and  by 
another  way  reached  the  place  where  he  was.  He 
gave  her  at  once  a  letter,  saying,  "This  came  in  an 
envelope  directed  to  me,  but  marked  within  for  you  : 
doubtless  it  will  explain  itself." 

Hester,  much  surprised,  hastily  opened,  and  found 
it  to  be  a  note  from  Jack. 
168 


WHAT  CAME  OF  MARION'S  RIDE.  169 

DEAR  ANT  HESTER,  —  Uncle  Pepper  has  gone  away  for 
three  days  on  buzinis,  and  Ant  Marion  is  awful  sick.  She 
don't  want  to  scare  Granty,  so  she  sed  I  could  write  you  a  note, 
and  enclose  it  to  Mr.  Severn.  He  would  give  it  to  you  when 
nobody  was  about.  If  Pete  fetched  it  to  any  of  the  rest,  she 
would  see  it.  She  don't  know  what  ails  her,  and  Dinah  don't, 
either.  She  don't  want  a  strange  doctor  fussing  over  her :  so 
won't  you  come  visiting,  and  take  care  of  her?  Explain  to 
Dorothy  and  Ant  Huldah.  Dinah  says  it  looks  like  errysip- 
plous.  Ant  Marion  says  tifoid  fever ;  but  I  bet  smal  pocks, 
'cause  she  is  spotted  with  big  red  spotts  all  over  her  hands  and 
arms.  She  feels  awful  mean  and  headaky.  Perhaps  she'll  die. 
I  feel  lonesome.  I  read  the  Bible,  where  Ant  Pepper's  best 
bookmark  is,  on  the  parlor  table.  Granty  says  it  consouls  her 
to  read  Chapters.  This  did  not  me.  It  sounded  like  swearing. 
It  was  all  begats,  begats,  begats.  What  are  they,  anyway? 
Come  as  quick  as  you  can,  or  she  may  be  dead,  and  we  having 
the  funeral.  Now  she  says  it  ain't  no  such  thing,  and  she 
won't  be  dead.  She  hopes  I  have  not  alarmed  you.  I  Have 
Not  have  I  ?  She  guesses  it's  Marmarial  fever  ;  but  she  would 
like  to  see  you  here.  Her  head  akes  so  she  can't  correck  This. 
Your  Dear  Jack. 


Hester  was  alarmed,  but  sincerely  hoped  that 
Jack  had  expressed  himself  too  strongly.  She  rap- 
idly explained  the  letter  to  Mr.  Severn,  who  had 
gone  to  the  other  end  of  the  piazza,  and  was  reading 
a  newspaper.  She  told  him  that  she  should  probably 
take  the  evening  train  for  Ingleside,  and  then  went 
back  to  find  aunt  Huldah  and  Dorothy.  When  they 


1 70  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

understood  her,  they  made  every  thing  easy  by  agree- 
ing not  to  needlessly  frighten  Granty  until  they  were 
sure  Marion  was  dangerously  ill.  They  would  pro- 
pose that  Hester  should  go  on  and  keep  her  there 
for  a  longer  visit.  The  weather  was  so  fine,  Hester 
would  enjoy  the  change,  and  have  a  chance  to  visit 
picture-galleries  to  her  heart's  content.  There  never 
was  a  more  guileless  soul  to  deal  with  than  Granty. 
In  half  an  hour  she  thought  she  had  proposed  the 
visit  herself,  and  was  sending  more  messages  to 
Marion  than  Hester  could  remember,  had  memory 
been  the  one  faculty  she  possessed. 

That  was  a  busy  day.  Hester  went  to  her  room  : 
Dorothy  followed,  saying,  "  Now  take  clothes  enough  ; 
because,  if  she  is  very  sick,  you  may  have  to  stay  a 
long  time,  and,  if  she  gets  well  right  away,  you 
might  have  a  nice  visit  afterwards." 

Hester  replied,  "Don't  bother  me  with  trifles.  If 
Marion  is  sick,  the  question  is,  what  ails  her  ?  Aunt 
Huldah  says  there  is  only  one  doctor  in  Ingleside, 
and  he  is  just  out  of  college.  She  must  have  the 
best  medical  advice ;  but  I  shall  nurse  her  myself,  if 
she  does  not  die  before  I  get  there.  See,  here  is  the 
closet,  there  are  my  bureau-drawers.  Tumble  any 
thing  you  see  fit  into  my  trunk,  only  let  me  alone. 
I  am  going  to  the  office  to  read  about  fevers  and 
erysipelas.  Do  not  call  me  for  two  hours  at  least." 


WHAT  CAME  OF  MARION'S  RIDE.  171 

Aunt  Pepper  appeared  as  Hester  went;  and  she, 
with  Dorothy,  selected  the  articles  they  thought  it 
best  for  Hester  to  take. 

"  I  pity  the  doctor  who  has  charge  of  any  one  that 
Hester  takes  care  of.  If  he  does  not  know  just  what 
he  is  about,  she  will  see  through  him  as  soon  as  uncle 
Jack  would,"  said  Dorothy.  "  Ever  since  she  could 
walk  she  has  had  a  passion  for  inquiring  into  the 
diseases  of  his  patients.  As  she  grew  older,  it 
pleased  him  to  take  her  to  see  curious  cases,  and  to 
give  her  the  newest  works  of  medical  writers  to  study. 
I  think  she  could  stand  to-day  as  good  an  examina- 
tion as  most  medical  students  could.  Of  course  she 
never  would  put  herself  in  the  place  of  a  physician, 
where  there  was  responsibility,  and  he  was  the  one 
to  take  it ;  but  we  would  far  sooner  trust  her  than  a 
doctor  who  was  unknown  to  us.  Oh,  dear !  I  hope 
Marion  is  not  going  to  be  very  sick." 

"  Oh,  no !  Being  alone,  she  is  frightened,  and  old 
Dinah  has  made  her  more  so.  Mr.  Pepperfield  will 
be  back,  even  before  Hester  gets  there :  I  am  sure 
he  will,  from  what  he  wrote  me  the  first  of  the 
week,"  said  aunt  Huldah,  rolling  up  stockings,  and 
stuffing  them  into  the  trunk  corners. 

The  ladies  talked,  worked,  and  secretly  worried  all 
the  day  ;  and  at  night  Hester  was  off  on  the  six- 
o'clock  train,  expecting  to  reach  Ingleside  early  the 
next  morning. 


172  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

Now,  leaving  the  family  saddened  by  her  depart- 
ure, and  fearful  of  the  next  news  from- Marion,  we 
will  follow  Hester.  She  had  no  detentions,  but 
arrived  safely  on  time  the  day  following.  When  the 
cars  stopped,  she  stepped  out  on  to  the  station-plat- 
form, and  took  a  hasty  look  around,  hoping*  to  see 
some  one  sent  for  her.  There  were  a  few  elegant 
private  carriages  waiting  for  some  of  her  fellow-travel- 
lers, but  none  for  her,  and  no  hack  or  omnibus  so 
far  as  she  could  discover.  It  was  a  lovely  morning  : 
the  sun  had  been  long  up ;  but  rosy  clouds  yet  filled 
the  sky,  and  the  towers  of  the  little  village  on  the 
hill  were  softly  outlined  against  the  blue  background  ; 
while  winding  in  and  out  for  a  long  way  before  her 
was  the  road  overarched  by  the  brilliant  maple-trees. 
Hester  was  a  good  walker ;  but  she  had  climbed  that 
hill  before,  and  knew  how  tantalizingly  it  stretched 
out  and  out,  how  tired  one  was  when  the  top  was 
gained.  She  was  in  haste  to  be  with  Marion  ;  for 
who  knew  what  had  occurred  since  Jack's  letter 
started  ?  Go  on  wheels  she  must,  if  any  were  to  be 
had  for  the  purpose.  So  thinking,  she  espied  a 
small,  dark  man,  evidently  a  peddler,  with  his  cart. 
It  was  clean  ;  and  she  approached  to  state  her  case, 
hoping  to  engage  his  services.  He  was  a  well-be- 
haved Hebrew,  who  could  carry  a  conversation  only 
so  far  as  to  tell  her  he  was  "  Schultz  der  rags-beddler, 


WHAT  CAME  OF  MARION'S  RIDE.  173 

—  rags-beddler"  repeating  it,  with  an  evident  desire 
to  shout,  in  professional  accents,  "  Ra-ags,"  but  also 
restrained  by  a  remnant  of  courtesy. 

A  broad-shouldered  gentleman  rushed  around  the 
corner  of  the  station-house,  and  stopped  with  a  quick 
glance  at  the  two. 

"  I  know  you  are  a  peddler;  but,  for  half  a  dollar, 
can't  you  take  me  up  the  hill  ?  I  am  in  haste  :  I  "  — 
Suddenly  she  got  out,  in  tolerably  back-handed  Ger- 
man, the  same  idea,  with  a  rise  to  seventy-five  cents, 
in  good  round  English,  at  the  end. 

"  Der  rags-beddler  "  had  no  time  to  close  in  with 
the  offer.  The  gentleman  took  her  hand-bag,  saying, 
"  I  have  come  for  you,  Miss  Prescott :  there  is  a  car- 
riage at  the  front  of  the  platform  now.  Your  sister 
is  better.  I  ought  to  have  been  here  before." 

"  Yes,  certainly  you  had,"  said  Hester,  for  the 
simple  reason  that  it  was  the  truth  ;  and,  as  she 
turned  promptly  to  follow  him,  Mr.  Craig  gave  a 
glance  at  this  brisk  lady,  whose  dark  hair  was  tossed 
roughly  by  the  breeze,  and  whose  clear-cut  face  was 
finer  than  Marion's,  if  it  lacked  the  color  and  vivacity 
of  expression  hers  had.  He  expected  she  would  say 
it  was  no  matter  that  he  was  late  :  Marion  would 
have  done  so  undoubtedly.  She  only  followed,  with- 
out a  word,  until  they  were  in  the  carriage  ;  then  she 
said  interrogatively,  "  You  are  Mr.  Craig  ? " 


174  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

"Yes.  Your  uncle  did  not  return  until  late  last 
evening.  He  telegraphed  to  the  city  for  a  doctor, 
who  will  be  out  in  the  next  train." 

"What  doctor?" 

"Dr.  Willis  Hilton,  I  believe." 

Hester  was  silent  a  moment,  then  said,  "He  will 
do,  perhaps.  I  should  have  preferred  Dr.  Gracie. 
Why  did  you  not  send  for  some  one  before  ?  I  think 
it  wrong  to  have  waited :  there  are  diseases  that  can 
only  be  controlled  if  taken  at  the  outset." 

"What  a  fierce  young  woman!  "  thought  the  edi- 
tor of  "The  Phoenix,"  who  answered  urbanely,  "I 
have  not  seen  Miss  Marion  since  she  was  taken  ill ; 
but  old  Dinah  told  me  she  would  have  no  one  sent 
for  until  her  uncle  or  you  came.  I  could  not  take 
the  liberty." 

"  You  might.  If  Dinah  thought  her  very  sick,  I 
think  you  ought  to  have  done  so,"  said  Hester,  with 
a  vicious  desire  to  quench  this  probable  admirer  of 
her  sister,  now  a  little  anxiety  was  allayed. 

Mr.  Craig  touched  up  his  horses,  and  made  no 
answer.  He  remembered  that  it  had  occurred  to 
him,  on  his  way  to  the  station,  that  he  might  meet  a 
nervous,  tearful,  elderly  maiden,  very  grateful  for  his 
care,  but  requiring  to  be  soothed  by  repeated  assur- 
ances that  her  sister  still  lived.  He  felt,  as  it  was,  a 
little  need  of  soothing  himself.  He  had  waited  over 


WHAT  CAME  OF  MARION'S  RIDE.  175 

a  train  this  morning,  for  the  sake  of  being  of  service 
to  this  pugnacious  person,  who  was  not  tearful,  nor 
nervous,  nor  apparently  any  older  than  her  sister. 
Rolling  along  thus  in  silence,  Hester  may  have  had 
an  intuition  of  his  thoughts ;  for,  without  any  prefix 
or  addendum,  she  ejaculated,  "I  thank  you  for  your 
trouble  in  coming  for  me.  It  was  very  kind." 

"You  need  not.  It  was  no  trouble.  I  would  do 
much  more  for  your  sister." 

That  was  his  one  prick,  so  dexterously  given  that 
Hester  almost  forgave  him. 

She  said  nothing  more,  until  she  discovered  that  a 
shoe  on  one  horse's  foot  was  loose,  and  mentioned  it 
as  a  fact  having  no  interest  for  her,  but  something 
possibly  well  for  him  to  know. 

When  they  reached  Mr.  Pepperfield's,  she  thanked 
him  again,  and  quickly  disappeared  in  the  house, 
before  she  knew,  that,  at  Mr.  Pepperfield's  invitation, 
he  intended  to  stay  until  the  next  train  into  the  city ; 
using  the  carriage  to  go  to  the  station,  and  giving  it 
to  the  doctor  to  come  back  with.  Entering  the 
house,  he  was  welcomed  by  old  Dinah,  and  soon  after 
summoned  b%  Mr.  Pepperfield  himself  to  breakfast. 
Theyjwere  taking  their  second  cup  of  coffee  together 
when  Hester  re-appeared,  taking  her  place  at  the 
table  as  if  she  and  Mr.  Craig  had  sat  opposite  one 
another  their  lives  long.  With  more  color,  and  less 


1 76  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

fierceness,  she  was  decidedly  pleasant  to  look  upon, 
as  that  gentleman  observed  ;  while  uncle  Pepperfield 
asked,  "  Well,  Hester,  how  do  you  find  your  patient  ? 
I  am  glad  to  see  your  face  so  much  brighter  than  it 
was  :  it  encourages  me." 

"I  do  not  think  she  has  any  thing  at  all  like 
typhoid»-fever,  or  that  she  is  very  ill.  It  may  be 
erysipelas  ;  though  I  do  not  believe  it  is.  I  think  she 
is  more  frightened  at  the  eruption  than  at  any  thing 
else." 

"  I  am  delighted  to  hear  it,"  said  uncle  Pepperfield : 
"  we  will  cure  her  up  soon.  And,  now  that  you  have 
been  plucked  up  and  transplanted,  you  must  take 
time,  and  flower  out  here  in  all  your  beauty,  and  — 
and  —  I  would  finish  in  style  if  I  could." 

"  It  is  not  the  season  of  year  to  flower  out,"  said 
Hester,  taking  a  roll,  and  eating  it  meditatively.  She 
broke  into  their  discussion  of  political  matters  soon 
after,  with  the  question,  "  Marion  could  not  have  poi- 
soned herself,  could  she  ?  She  appears  like  a  patient 
of  uncle  Jack's,  who  had  been  in  the  woods,  and 
handled  poisonous  ivy." 

"No,"  said  Mr.  Pepperfield.     "She  hgs"  — 

But  he  was  interrupted. 

"  She  has  been  to  the  woods,  and  she  has  handled 
poisonous  sumach.  I  took  her  there,  and  she  brought 
home  her  arms  full,"  said  Mr.  Craig. 


WHAT  CAME  OF  MARION'S  RIDE.  177 

"  Didn't  you  know  any  better  ? "  asked  Hester 
sternly. 

"  No,  I  did  not,"  he  answered  meekly ;  adding 
courageously,  in  a  minute,  "  Yes,  we  did  know  bet- 
ter. We  were  warned ;  but  your  sister  said  she  did 
not  fear  its  effects." 

"You  ought  to  have  thrown  it  right  away,  what- 
ever she  said." 

Mr.  Craig  was  both  amused  and  piqued  by  this 
remarkable  sister,  who  persistently  took  high  ground, 
and  reproved  him  as  if  he  were  a  child.  He  was 
accustomed  to  deference.  He  did  not  exact  it ;  but 
he  found  he  expected  it,  now  that  it  was  not  forth- 
coming. She  was  not  rude  or  unladylike  :  she  was 
like  fresh  air  suddenly  turned  on  to  one.  It  was  nat- 
•ural  to  give  way  a  little  from  the  surprise  of  the 
thing,  before  knowing  whether  or  not  it  was  agreea- 
ble. The  last  cup  of  coffee  finished,  Mr.  Craig  found 
it  time  to  start  for  the  city,  and  bade  them  good- 
morning. 

It  was  not  long  before  Dr.  Hilton  arrived,  and 
made  a  quick  diagnosis.  He  confirmed  Hester's 
suspicions,  and  laughingly  declared  that  they  had 
treated  him  shabbily  in  sending  for  another  doctor, 
and  drawing  him  into  a  consultation  with  one  who 
was  practising  without  a  diploma.  He  professed  to 
regret  that  he  was  to  be  played  out  of  a  long  profes- 


178  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

sional  service ;  but  he  was  sure  Marion  would  recover 
in  a  day  or  two,  with  the  proper  remedies.  Old 
Dinah  rushed  about  to  get  a  second  hot  breakfast  for 
"  that  thar  city  swell-doctor,  what  do'  no'  no  mo'  nor 
Miss  Hester  did  fust  five  minutes  she  war  in  de 
hous."  And  it  was  in  vain  Jack  asked,  "How  could 
he,  Dinah,  if  that  was  all  there  was  to  know  ?  " 

Marion  herself  smothered  a  good  deal  of  laughter 
in  her  pillow,  and  grew  rapidly  better.  She  acknowl- 
edged that  she  had  been  greatly  frightened,  and 
chiefly  at  the  great  red  spots  on  her  hands  :  however, 
she  did  not  regret  sending  for  Hester. 

"  I  will  get  well  as  quickly  as  possible,  and  we  will 
take  a  few  days  to  go  about  the  city  together  ;  then 
I  will  go  home,  and  you  can  stay  a  few  weeks.  But 
first  unpack  your  trunk,  and  go  to  bed.  Sleep  until 
noon,  and  after  that  we  will  talk.  If  you  travelled 
all  night,  you  are  tired." 

Hester  asserted  that  she  was  not  sleepy,  and  her 
trunk  had  not  been  sent  from  the  station  :  so  after 
Mr.  Pepperfield  had  taken  away  the  doctor,  and  Di- 
nah had  made  the  invalid  eat  her  breakfast,  Marion, 
wrapped  in  a  blanket,  sat  up  among  the  pillows,  and 
Hester  settled  herself  in  a  big  easy-chair. 

"  Now  tell  me  all  the  news,"  said  Marion.  "  How 
have  you  gotten  along  since  I  came  away  ?  You  are 
not  in  debt,  I  hope." 


WHA  T  CAME  OF  MARION1  S  RIDE. 


179 


"  Not  a  penny  !  Trust  Dorothy  for  that.  No  : 
aunt  Huldah  wanted  to  pay  her  board  when  she 
came,  but  we  would  not  hear  a  word  to  it.  She 
seemed  to  succumb  ;  but  she  really  has  circumvented 
us,  for  she  gets  from  Granty  the  state  of  our  affairs, 
and  orders  and  pays  for  all  sorts  of  things.  When 
we  remonstrate,  she  says  she  is  as  much  one  of  us  as 
she  ever  was ;  and  uncle  Pepperfield  told  her  to  do 
such  things,  or  he  would  be  ashamed  of  her.  Mr. 
Severn's  board-bill,  too,  is  not  an  insignificant  item." 

"  What  is  he  like  ?  "  asked  Marion. 

"  He  is  not  tediously  pious  in  any  outside-of-the- 
platter  fashion  ;  but  he  is  good.  The  poor  people  in 
his  church  think  there  never  was  such  a  man  ;  and  the 
aristocratic  ones  are  very  fond  of  him,  I  hear.  He 
talks  with  Granty  about  New  England  by  the  hour. 
When  she  says  funny  things,  he  laughs  so  heartily,  I 
know  nothing  comical  ever  escapes  him.  We  never 
find  him  in  our  way  ;  and,  best  of  all,  he  is  not  rooted 
and  grounded  in  the  idea  that  he  knows  every  thing, 
as  this  Mr.  Craig  seems  to  be." 

"  Why,  what  have  you  seen  of  Mr.  Craig  ?  "  asked 
Marion,  opening  wide  her  eyes. 

"  He  brought  me  from  the  station ;  and  there  is 
altogether  too  much  of  him  in  some -way." 

"  He  can't  help  the  breadth  of  his  shoulders  and 
the  length  of  his  limbs.  I  like  him  very  much,  and 
I  thought  you  would.  We  see  a  great  deal  of  him." 


l8o  UNCLE  JACK^S  EXECUTORS. 

"  So  I  thought,  from  your  letters." 

"  How  is  Dorothy  ? "  asked  Marion,  after  a  pause. 

Hester's  countenance  relaxed;  and  she  replied, 
laughing,  "  I  used  to  think  she  had  bewitched  poor 
Mr.  Scudder,  he  came  so  often,  and  staid  so  long. 
I  half  fancy  that  he  offered  himself,  but  I  cannot 
find  out.  However,  he  still  calls,  and  brings  her  fruit 
and  flowers  and  unromantic  vegetables.  One  day 
lately,  Dorothy  and  Molly  Howells  went  to  ride. 
Dorothy  had  a  basket,  which  she  stopped  to  leave  at 
the  Scudders'.  Mr.  Scudder  came  out,  and  insisted 
that  they  should  come  in  to  see  a  new  hothouse  he 
was  having  made.  Dorothy  says  he  has  a  splendid 
farm,  and  the  children  are  far  more  human  than  you 
would  think  from  their  photographs.  Molly  Howells 
was  delighted  with  the  dairy,  and  tried  her  hand  at 
churning.  She  is  such  an  honest,  outspoken  girl, 
the  Scudder  girls  were  greatly  pleased  with  her  ;  and 
Mr.  Scudder,  Dorothy  said,  seemed  much  impressed 
with  her  good-nature.  On  the  way  home  she  (Molly) 
said  he  was  not  so  queer  as  she  imagined  him  to  be. 
Now,  I  believe  Dorothy  Prescott  is  match-making! 
She  will  not  confess  she  is,  but  only  says  Molly  is 
discontented  at  home,  never  will  be  stylish  enough 
to  suit  her  mother,  and  is  pining  for  good  sensible 
work." 

"  How  funny !  "  exclaimed  Marion.  "What  would 
her  mother  say  ? " 


WHAT  CAME   OF  MARION'S  RIDE.  181 

"  Oh  !  if  he  were  poor,  she  would  banish  Molly  to 
Liberia  before  she  would  consent.  But  Mr.  Scudder 
is  very  rich,  and  she  will  admit  his  good  qualities  un- 
doubtedly, and  tell  people  he  is  '  so  eccentric.'  " 

At  this  point  Hester's  trunk  arrived,  and  the  con- 
versation came  to  an  end. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Good  Advice  not  Taken. 

MARION'S  room  was  quiet,  and  she  was  ready 
for  work,  so  far  as  accessories  were  concerned- 
Her  pens  were  new,  her  inkstand  was  refilled,  the 
paper  spread  lavishly  over  her  desk  was  clean  and 
white.  There  was  the  trouble  :  she  was  not  in  a 
mood  to  make  that  paper  a  whit  less  white.  It  was 
an  excellent  day  to  sit  down  for  hours  of  steady  work. 
The  rain  was  dashing  against  the  window,  and  no 
caller  would  be  likely  to  brave  the  December  storm  ; 
but  pens,  ink,  paper,  and  time  never  made  a  writer. 
Marion  felt  herself  as  dull  as  the  dullest  school-girl 
ever  forced  to  write  a  composition.  Her  glance  fell 
on  a  newspaper  paragraph,  where  attention  was 
called  to  "  Miss  Marion  Prescott's  last  remarkably 

brilliant  story  in  the  December  number  of  the , 

so  '  unaffected  in  style/  of  such  'power  in  portraying 
character,'   so   '  dramatic   in    plot,   its  conversations 
witty  yet  natural,  the  whole  thoroughly  exciting  in  a 
legitimate  way,' "  &c. 
182 


GOOD  ADVICE  NOT  TAKEN.  183 

"  How  that  reviewer  flattered  me  !  "  she  mused.  "  I 
never  wrote  such  -a  story,  or,  if  I  ever  did,  I  cannot 
any  more." 

She  was  staring  at  a  great  puddle  in  the  road,  and 
the  many  bubbles  the  raindrops  made  in  it,  when 
Dorothy,  appearing  behind  her,  cried,  "  Don't  you 
waste  a  minute.  Do  you  think,  if  I  could  coin  my 
brains  into  money,  I  would  stand  gazing  out  of  the 
window  ?  I'm  surprised  at  you." 

Marion  turned  to  the  lively  young  woman,  who 
wore  a  gingham  apron  with  an  account-book  rising 
out  of  its  side-pocket,  then  she  said,  "  Dorothy,  there 
are  various  ways  of  killing  the  goose  that  lays  the 
golden  eggs." 

"Very  likely.  What  is  the  latest  way  of  doing 
it  ?  "  asked  her  sister,  as  she  puffed  a  little  with  the 
exertion  of  running  up  stairs  after  her  domestic 
labors. 

"When  uncle  Jack  was  alive,"  said  Marion,  con- 
tinuing the  thoughts  that  occupied  her  when  Dorothy 
came  in,  "  I  wrote  because  I  delighted  in  it.  I  was 
continually  seeing  people  who  suggested  to  me  other 
people,  half  made  up  of  the  peculiarities  of  these 
first,  half  formed  out  of  my  fancy.  I  made  such 
characters  to  act  in  scenes  suggested  by  other  places, 
pictures,  or,  it  might  be,  dreams.  When  I  read,  also, 
sentences  would  be  texts  to  me  for  long  trains  of 


1 84  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

thought  that  would  be  worked  out  in  me  by  a  kind  of 
happy  spontaneity.  In  short,  I  never  remember  to 
have  asked  myself,  '  What  shall  I  write  ? '  but  only, 
'Am  I  writing  this  that  I  have  to  write  in  the  very 
best  way  ? '  When  I  read  over  the  stories  and 
sketches  and  essays  of  those  times,  they  surprise  me. 
There  is  so  much  in  them,  I  feel,  as  you  said  one 
day  about  butter  and  eggs,  '  How  much  must  have 
been  wasted  in  those  days  when  we  never  thought 
any  thing  about  it ! '  Now,  the  fact  is,  I  have  nothing 
to  write  about.  I  am  used  up." 

Marion's  manner  was  dejected ;  no  doubt  she 
spoke  sincerely  :  but  practical  Dorothy  could  not 
understand  it.  She  looked  at  the  writing-desk,  and 
then  at  the  intellectual  face  of  the  young  woman 
before  it.  Marion  had  not  had  softening  of  the 
brain,  or  any  stroke  of  paralysis ;  and  certainly  the 
world  was  as  full  of  queer  characters  as  ever  it  was  : 
why  were  they  not  just  as  suggestive  ? 

"I  did  not  suppose  authors  were  like  cisterns, — 
liable  to  get  dry,"  she  said. 

"Well,  they  are." 

"  Then  can't  they  be  primed  when  they  get  out  of 
order,  — like  old  pumps  ? " 

"  I  have  tried  priming.  I  read  yesterday  until  my 
head  ached:  all  I  could  think  was,  'Oh  that  my 
enemy  would  write  a  book,  and  give  me  what  he 
made  by  it ! '  " 


GOOD  ADVICE  NOT  TAKEN.  185 

"  What  do  you  suppose  is  the  reason  of  this  ?" 

"  I  have  worked  too  hard  and  too  fast.  I  have  not 
let  people  and  things  quietly  impress  a  'mind  at 
leisure  from  itself,'  which  is  the  secret  of  seeing 
things  in  a  new  light  I  have  felt  the  necessity  of 
making  capital  for  present  work  out  of  every  available 
circumstance,  and  I  feel  dragged.  I  see  nothing 
that  interests  me.  If  I  had  a  fortune  left  me,  I 
would  not  look  at  a  pen  for  six  months  ;  then  I  could 
do  better  than  ever  before.  I  have  learned  much 
about  the  art  of  telling  things  ;  but  what  does  that 
avail,  if  I  have  nothing  to  tell  ? " 

VWell,  it  is  unfortunate,"  said  Dorothy.  "The 
golden  goose  must  have  a  rest,  of  course ;  but,  as  old 
Father  Nelson  used  to  inquire  in  prayer-meeting, 
'  How  shall  we  best  preparate  for  this  vast  future 
which  is  to  come  ? '  The  coal-bin  is  half  empty  ;  the 
gas-bill  is  large  ;  I  can  see  the  bottom  of  the  flour- 
barrel,  the  sugar-barrel,  and  the  soap-box.  The 
money  melts  out  of  my  pocket-book  like  snow  off  the 
roof." 

"Do  we  live  economically  ? "  asked  Marion. 

"  Yes  ;  placed  as  we  are,  we  do.  There  !  the  clock 
is  striking  eleven.  I  must  go  back  and  see  about 
the  dinner." 

Left  alone  Marion  gazed  still  more  dolefully  at  the 
blank  paper,  murmuring,  "  If  I  had  to  sew,  now,  or 


1 86  UNCLE  JA  CAT'S  EXECUTORS. 

to  spin,  I  could  say,  '  Yoti  shall!'  to  myself;  but  to 
be  'brilliant,  effective,  witty,  dramatic,  and  thoroughly 
exciting  in  a  legitimate  way,'  all  under  compulsion, 
only  inspired  by  vanishing  coal  and  soap  and 
starch  !  "  She  was  reflecting  on  the  situation,  when 
Jack  appeared  to  show  his  rubber  boots,  with  a  hole 
in  each  where  the  heel  ought  to  be;  to  modestly 
ask  for  a  new  overcoat ;  and  also  to  make  the  general 
remark,  that  "  a  fellow  liked  new  skates,  when  his  old 
ones  acted  like  flat-irons  without  any  handles."  It 
was  a  relief  to  Marion  when  the  dinner-bell  rang. 

Dorothy  was  pre-occupied  at  the  table  ;  and 
Marion,  as  she  ate,  was  wishing  that  Hester  was 
home.  Why,  she  could  not  have  told ;  only  Hester 
was  always  ready  to  propose  either  something  practi- 
cal in  the  way  of  action,  or  something  so  highly 
impractical,  that  it  diverted  them  from  melancholy 
into  laughter.  Mr.  Severn  and  Granty  had  most  of 
the  conversation  between  them.  He  was  not  getting 
on  rapidly  in  knowing  Marion  Prescott.  She  was 
usually  the  listener  when  others  talked,  and  the  one 
to  disappear  if  he  lingered  long  among  them.  He 
had  read  some  of  her  articles,  and  liked  them  :  she 
interested  him  all  the  more  that  she  was  so  elusive. 

"  I  wish  that  I  had  genius  of  the  very  grandest 
sort,"  said^  Dorothy  suddenly,  as  she  opened  the 
coffee-pot,  and  looked  in  for  some  purpose ;  adding, 


GOOD  ADVICE  NOT  TAKEN.  187 

as  she  shut  it  again,  — "or  a  large  fortune  :  I  do  not 
care  which." 

Everybody  laughed  at  the  outburst,  but  took  no 
other  notice  of  it.  Mr.  Severn  reflected  that  it  was 
the  first  time  he  had  heard  them  speak  of  money. 
He  thought  them  in  quite  independent  circum- 
stances. Their  manner  of  living  was  simpler  than 
the  Howells's,  but  in  better  taste,  and  easier.  To- 
day he  reflected  that  this  family  might  not  be  rich, 
but  they  could  not  be  poor ;  for  the  young  ladies 
were  always  elegantly  dressed.  Marion  would  have 
been  amused  to  know  that  the  deluded  man  based 
his  opinion  on  the  dainty  bits  of  ribbon,  velvet,  and 
old  lace,  with  which  they  brightened  up  their  every- 
day dresses. 

After  dinner  Marion  turned  her  back  on  her 
writing-desk,  and,  entering  the  parlor,  took  a  great 
chair  by  the  open  fire.  Mr.  Severn  followed  her, 
and  spent  most  of  the  short,  stormy  afternoon  talk- 
ing with  her.  At  first  their  conversation  was  im- 
personal; but,  when  Mr.  Severn  began  to  speak  of 
her  writings,  Marion  asked  him  if  it  ever  happened 
to  him,  that,  when  he  had  a  sermon  to  write,  he  found 
himself  without  any  thing  to  say.  Then,  somewhat 
as  she  had  to  Dorothy,  she  told  of  her  present  in- 
ability to  find  people  and  things  suggestive,  as  well  as 
her  difficulty  in  spinning  fancies  from  internal  re- 


1 88  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

sources.  Of  course  she  did  not  allude  to  the  "flour- 
barrel,"  but  left  him  to  think  that  she  merely  wished 
to  understand  what  was  to  her  a  new  experience  of 
intellectual  powerlessness. 

"  Sometimes,"  said  she,  with  a  lack  of  conceit  very 
pleasing  to  him,  "  I  think  I  may  have  made  a  great 
blunder  in  thinking  that  I  had  the  least  talent  for 
what  I  have  undertaken ;  so  that  now  I  am  waking 
up  to  a  humiliating  self-knowledge." 

Her  voice  was  low,  as  if  she  expected  the  confes- 
sion would  convince  her  hearer  of  its  truth,  and  he 
would  have  to  assure  her  that  the  scales  were  falling 
from  her  eyes.  Still  the  minister  was  gentle,  and 
she  imagined  she  could  endure  the  truth  from  him. 
He  gave  her  confidence  a  genial  laugh,  by  way  of  a 
first  answer;  then  he  said,  "It  is  blue  Monday  with 
you,  or  it  would  be  if  you  were  a  minister.  I  know 
what  the  trouble  is :  I  think  I  do,  at  least.  You 
have  written  for  seven  or  eight  years,  have  you  not  ? " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Did  you  have  literary  friends  to  use  their  influ- 
ence for  you?  or  did  you  start  unknown,  and  send 
your  articles  to  strangers  ? " 

"I  had  no  such  friends,  knew  no  editors,  never 
have  had  a  patron,  helper,  or  even  a  critical  reader, 
to  advise  me  what  was  good,  bad,  or  indifferent,  be- 
fore I  offered  it  for  publication." 


GOOD  ADVICE  NOT  TAKEN.  189 

"  You  have  always  had  your  articles  taken  at  good 
places,  have  you  not  ?  Critical  editors  have  been 
willing  to  pay  well  for  them,  have  they  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  !  " 

"  How  could  you  victimize  poor  innocent  men  so, 
if  you  had  no  talent  ?  What  made  them  treat  you  as 
if  you  had  ?  You  must  be  a  very  artful  blunderer  in 
some  way." 

The  quizzical  words  cheered  Marion.  It  was 
rather  inspiring  to  be  so  catechised  by  a  minister ; 
but  she  returned,  "Well,  perhaps  I  had  some  super- 
ficial talent.  But,  if  I  have  worked  myself  out,  what 
then?" 

"  Then  you  will  have  made  a  mistake  that  has  been 
made  before.  But  I  do  not  think  this  is  true.  I  will 
tell  you  how  you  can  find  out  to  the  contrary  per- 
haps. Lock  up  your  writing-desk,  —  don't  look  at  it 
for  a  long  time  ;  spend  that  time  in  finding  out  where 
there  is  a  place  as  unlike  any  you  have  ever  lived  in 
as  possible.  Go  off  vagabondizing  ;  delight  yourself 
with  out-of-the-way  people  and  homes,  and  local 
living,  thinking,  and  traditions.  If  you  see  some- 
thing that  interests  you,  pen-sketch  it  without  a 
thought  of  what  you  will  do  with  it.  Find  a  new 
type  of  character,  and  study  it  psychologically.  If 
you  have  never  been  in  Europe,  why  not  go  ?  avoid- 
ing too  persistently  seeing  the  conventional  sights, 


1 90  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

but  finding  the  places  you  have  never  read  about. 
Take  time  to  get  clear  pictures  in  your  mind ;  then 
come  back  and  write  stories,  when  it  is  a  great  deal 
easier  for  you  to  do  so  than  it  would  be  not  to  write 
them.  You  may  go  all  around  the  world,  and  come 
home  to  find  your  very  next-door  neighbor  a  genuine 
inspiration,  and  the  turnpike-road  where  you  played 
as  a  child,  a  path  into  a  rich  region  of  fancy.  Then 
you  will  probably  wonder  why  you  could  not  have 
saved  your  time  and  money,  if  you  were  not  going  to 
describe  English  lords  and  German  peasants  ;  but 
in  time  you  will  see  that  you  needed  tossing  half 
across  the  earth  to  shake  the  dust  out  of  your  eyes, 
which  prevents  you  from  finding  how  clearly  defined 
and  interesting  life  is  under  your  window.  It  is  use- 
less to  try  to  see  it  so  now.  You  are  tired  of  it  :  you 
have  nothing  to  put  with  it  as  a  contrast.  I  think 
you  are  not  written  out :  you  need  rest  and  change. 
I  imagine,  if  you  do  not  take  my  advice,  you  will "  — 

"  What  will  I  do  ? " 

He  looked  at  her  with  grave  interest,  then  said, 
"  I  fear  you  will  turn  your  eyes  in,  and  study  your- 
self, until  you  evolve  morbid,  intense  novels.  It  is 
not  well  to  consume  one's  self  after  that  fashion. 
The  end,  too,  is  almost  always  failure." 

"You  are  right,  perhaps,"  answered  Marion,  "and 
what  you  say  is  encouraging  and  —  discouraging." 


GOOD  ADVICE  NOT  TAKEN.  191 

She  was  silent  a  while,  not  explaining  herself 
further,  and  then  the  conversation  drifted  toward 
other  matters.  She  found  Mr.  Severn  a  restful  com- 
panion. He  was  one  of  those  people  with  whom,  as 
Arthur  Helps  says,  "you  are  supremely  at  ease, 
because  the  horrid  idea  will  not  cross  your  mind, 
'What  shall  I  say  next?'"  He  was  called  away  at 
last;  and  Marion,  left  alone,  sank  deeper  into  her 
easy-chair,  reviewing  the  conversation  in  the  twilight. 
"  Vagabondizing  a  year  in  Europe !  That  is  fine, 
indeed !  I  have  heard  one  can  get  on  nicely  there 
only  spending  five  dollars  a  day ;  for  a  year  that  is 
one  thousand  eight  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars. 
I  do  not  know  how,  in  view  of  our  circumstances,  I 
could  plan  the  tour,  unless  I  mortgaged  the  house, 
sold  the  horse  and  cow,  and  put  the  family  in  the 
poor-house.  It  is  a  little  too  much  to  undertake: 
I  had  better  wait  until  spring." 

That  evening  Marion  was  agreeably  surprised  by 
the  arrival  of  a  copy  of  "The  Phoenix"  containing 
her  last  article,  a  check  from  the  publishers,  and  a 
friendly  letter  from  the  editor.  Granty  ensconced 
herself  by  the  drop-light  with  the  fresh  attractive 
journal,  to  see  "what  it  was  like;"  while  Dorothy, 
more  interested  in  Mr.  Craig's  letter,  asked,  "  Does 
he  speak  of  seeing  Hester  ? " 

"  Yes  :  he  says  she  went  to  a  fine  private  exhibi- 


1 92  .         UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

tion  of  pictures  with  him,  and  he  thinks  sne  must 
have  enjoyed  it  very  much." 

"  I  should  suppose  she  would  have  said  she  did." 

"No,"  returned  Marion.  "If  Hester  imagines 
anybody  expects  her  '  to  extract  ecstasy  and  parox- 
ysm' out  of  any  thing,  as  Sydney  Smith  says,  that  is 
the  time  she  will  be  as  unresponsive  as  a  bell  with 
the  tongue  taken  out.  Oh,  those  two  must  be  very 
funny  together !  Mr.  Craig  never  fails  to  have  the 
right  thought  expressed  in  the  choicest  words,  on 
the  moment.  Hester  is  as  likely  to  make  a  prickly, 
ginger-snappy  retort,  as  she  also  is  to  make  no  answer 
at  all,  when  a  response  is  breathlessly  expected. 
How  did  she  get  along  with  Mr.  Severn,  Dorothy  ? " 

"Just  beautifully.  I  was  astonished  at  her.  They 
rode  out  together  sometimes.  He  had  calls  to  make 
on  a  sick  old  lady,  his  parishioner,  six  miles  away. 
Hester  took  him  ;  and  I  am  not  sure  she  did  not  pre- 
scribe for  the  woman  every' time  she  went.  I  know 
that  once  she  put  a  bran-and-turpentine  poultice,  or 
plaster,  or  something  of  the  sort,  on  her,  —  something 
I  never  heard  of  before,  nor  had  Mr.  Severn,  either ; 
for  he  amused  her  mightily  by  dropping  his  sermon 
the  next  day,  and  coming  in  to  ask  her  if  she  was 
sure  she  knew  what  she  was  about  when  she  advised 
it.  Was  it  not  explosive  ?  " 

Granty  was  a  little  shocked  at  the  fun  she  poked 


GOOD  ADVICE  NOT  TAKEN.  193 

at  him.  She  said  it  certainly  would  make  trouble 
for  the  woman,  if  they  set  her  on  fire ;  but  neverthe- 
less she  knew  what  she  had  done.  Yes  ;  she  was 
never  brusque  with  Mr.  Severn,  and  he  liked  her." 

"Dorothy,"  whispered  Marion,  with  a  glance  toward 
Granty,  who  was  not  heeding  them  at  all,  —  "  Doro- 
thy, I  had  an  idea  that  Hester  admired  him  very 
much.  She  wrote  about  him  several  times.  It  was 
strange  for  her  to  give  half  a  page  to  any  man." 

Dorothy  nodded  emphatically,  whispering,  in  re- 
turn, "  I  know  —  I  saw  things  myself.  But  it  may 
be  there  was  nothing  in  them  ;  for  you  know  Hester 
says  we  are  none  of  us  ever  to  marry." 

"  Indeed  !  Are  we  not  free  moral  agents.  I  shall 
not  ask  permission  of  Hester,  I  assure  you." 

Dorothy  was  laughing  when  Granty  put  down  the 
journal,  saying,  "That  reads  well,  Marion.  I  would 
send  them  another,  but  have  a  better  title." 

"  Why  do  you  not  like  that  title  ?  "  asked  Marion, 
who  had  the  greatest  respect  for  Granty's  literary 
taste.  Her  instincts  were  almost  always  unerring. 
The  article  she  praised  was  sure  to  win  approval 
when  sent  out ;  while  her  hints  and  criticisms  had 
been  of  great  value  to  the  young  writer. 

The  old  lady  answered  her  at  length,  then  resumed 
her  knitting. 

" Dorothy,  hear  the  wind  blow!"    she  exclaimed. 


194  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

"  It  is  go.ng  to  be  a  wild  night.  Did  you  tell  Pete  to 
give  Old  Mortality  plenty  of  straw  for  his  bed,  and 
to  see  all  the  barn-doors  were  securely  fastened  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Granty,  I  attended  to  it  all  before  dark." 

"  I  am  seriously  afraid  that  Buttercup  is  neglected, 
now  Hester  is  away.  I  looked  at  her  to-day ;  and  it 
seemed  to  me  she  acted  mournful,  swung  her  tail  as 
if  she  were  uncomfortable  :  it  had  burs  in  it  too  ; 
and  that  is  a  shame  !  Pete  shall  get  them  out,  if  he 
lives  until  to-morrow.  Won't  you  charge  your  mind 
a  little  more  with  such  things,  girls  ?  I  am  pretty 
old  to  have  charge  of  an  establishment  like  this  : 
some  old  ladies,  in  my  place,  would  do  little  more 
than  read  their  Bibles,  and  take  care  of  themselves." 

"  I  know  it,  Granty  ;  and  we  are  very  sorry  to  see 
you  do  so  much,"  returned  Dorothy.  "  You  overtire 
yourself  every  day  ;  but  we  cannot  seem  to  prevent 
it." 

"  While  I  can,  I  prefer  to  attend  to  things  myself, 
and  then  they  are  attended  to.  —  Marion,  you  spoke  of 
having  my  new  black  dress  made  this  week.  I  don't 
know  but  I  might  as  well  have  something  more  of 
a  trail  to  it  than  the  last  one  had.  I  noticed  Mrs. 
Howells's,  at  our  tea-party,  was  quite  long.  I  don't 
wish  to  look  bobbed  off.  There !  I  must  go  right 
out  to  the  kitchen,  and  start  Pete  off  with  a  basket 
of  provisions  for  that  poor,  suffering  Jones  family. 
He  is  out  of  work,  and  is  down  with  a  fever." 


GOOD  ADVICE  NOT  TAKEN.  195 

"  Let  me  do  it  for  you,"  cried  Dorothy ;  but  she 
could  only  follow  in  the  wake  of  the  little  lady,  whose 
cap-strings  were  vanishing  kitchenward.  A  few  mo- 
ments later,  Marion  overheard  her  charging  Pete,  with 
the  half-motherly,  half  great-lady  air  so  natural  to  her, 
"  See  if  they  have  a  fire,  Pete  ;  and  tell  them  never 
to  suffer  for  any  thing,  or  to  let  the  poor  little  chil- 
dren go  without  plenty  of  proper  food,  but  to  send 
one  of  them  right  up  here  with  a  basket.  Don't  you 
break  that  jelly-jar,  or  spill  the  milk." 

"  Dear  little,  old  Lady  Bountiful,"  thought  Marion, 
"with  generations  of  generous  ancestors  behind  her, 
with  the  recollections  of  a  long  life  clinging  to  her, 
may  she  never  refrain  from  giving  away  the  next  to 
the  last  basketful  she  has  !  To  the  very  last  one  she 
will  never  come :  I  am  sure  of  that.  God  will  not 
forget  his  own.  Granty  has  been  for  seventy  years  a 
living  gospel  of  love  and  good  works,  bound  in  a 
quaint  cover  perhaps,  but  a  gospel  just  the  same." 

At  this  point  Granty  returned,  and  sent  her  per- 
emptorily to  bed,  as  if  she  were  a  giddy  child  of 
seven.  She  went  to  her  room,  but  not  at  once  to 
rest.  She  gazed  again  reproachfully  at  her  writing- 
desk,  as  if  it  had  served  her  some  very  shabby  trick. 
She  addressed  it  thus,  "  Why  don't  I  write  something 
that  will  be  a  great  success,  —  a  popular  book  ?  " 

The  question  gave  her  a  new  impulse.     She  went 


196  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

to  a  drawer,  found,  after  a  considerable  search,  a  pile 
of  old  newspapers  dated  a  few  years  back.  They 
contained  her  one  "  sensation  story."  Slipped  into 
the  pages  of  the  first  chapter  was  a  long  envelope 
containing  a  paper  stating  that  she  obtained  her 
copyright  of  the  librarian  of  Congress  at  such  a  date. 
With  newly  awakened  interest,  Marion  began  to  read 
the  story  itself  slowly,  critically,  as  if  it  had  been 
written  by  another.  It  was  an  hour  before  she 
stopped,  thinking,  "  If  to-day  I  had  given  me  those 
characters  and  those  scenes,  I  could  not  write  half 
so  brilliant  a  story.  The  editor  of  '  The Ga- 
zette '  offered  to  take  as  many  in  the  same  line  as  I 
should  send  him  from  time  to  time.  I  never  had  any 
desire  to  write  another.  I  never  have  offered  this, 
since  then,  to  any  publisher,  although  it  attracted  a 
good  deal  of  attention  in  a  paper  very  poorly  adapted 
to  bring  it  before  the  public.  It  is  not  weak  at  all : 
far  poorer  books  have  had  a  tremendous  popularity 
for  a  season  or  so.  I  might  get  it  republished  as  a 
summer  novel.  Why  not  ?  " 

Why  not  ?  That  was  the  question  Marion  argued 
and  answered  and  re-argued,  as  if  it  were  some  sort 
of  a  temptation  to  be  overcome  rather  than  a  simple 
business  matter  to  settle,  once  for  all,  so  far  as  she 
was  concerned.  If  there  was  money  in  it,  why  not 
get  money  out  of  it  ?  No  :  she  could  not  put  it  that 


GOOD  ADVICE  NOT  TAKEN.  197 

way  simply.  Judged  by  her  sternest  creed  of  liter- 
ary faith,  was  it  a  poorly  written  book  ?  No.  She 
would  have  liked  to  stop  there  ;  but  she  was  a  child 
in  regular  generation  of  all  those  Puritans  whose 
grave  faces  adorned  the  lower  walls.  Her  eyes  were 
as  searching  as  theirs.  Back  of  the  writer,  the  white- 
souled  woman  was  asking,  "  Will  it  be  a  good  book 
for  me  to  put  my  name  to  ?  Have  I  not  gone  beyond 
it  now  ? " 

"  I  wonder  what  Mr.  Severn  would  say  to  it,"  she 
exclaimed  at  last.  "It  is  not  at  all  in  Mr.  Craig's 
line  of  work  or  thought.  He  would  say,  as  some  one 
else  does,  that,  'for  those  that  like  that  sort  of  thing, 
it  is  the  sort  of  thing  they  would  like.'  He  might 
prune  a  little,  and  suggest  a  publisher.  I  wonder  if 
Mr.  Severn  ever  reads  novels.  That  makes  no  differ- 
ence :  he  can  read  this.  He  is  candid  and  unpreju- 
diced. I  shall  put  it  between  him  and  his  next  ser- 
mon, and  I  believe  I  will  accept  his  advice  about 
republishing  it.  Meanwhile  I  will  go  to  sleep." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

A  Letter  from  Hester. 

DEC.  20,  1 8-. 

DEAR  MARION,  —  I  presume  you  think  I  write  very  few 
letters  ;  but  you,  having  been  here  so  lately,  know  just  how 
every  thing  goes  ;  while  I  am  so  busy  making  the  most  of  my 
time,  that  I  forget  to  write.  Each  day,  at  night,  I  resolve  to  do 
so  the  next  day,  and  neglect  it.  Aunt  Pepperfield  finds  a  great 
deal  to  do  since  she  came  back,  and  therefore  leaves  me  to  my 
own  devices.  Marion,  —  now  I  think  to  ask  you,  —  won't  you 
order  me  two  stretchers  covered  with  canvas  ?  I  want  them 
when  I  get  home.  One  I  wish  to  be  twelve  by  fifteen ;  the 
other,  twenty  by  thirty-six.  Then  will  you  go  over  to  the  Eg- 
gerton  farm,  and  get  a  quantity  of 'pumpkins  for  Pete  to  feed 
to  the  cow,  as  I  instructed  him  before  I  came  away  ?  The 
roads  are  so  heavy  now,  that  of  course  you  do  not  use  the 
phaeton :  don't  you  think  it  a  good  time  to  send  it  vd  the  carnage- 
maker's,  and  have  it  made  thoroughly  strong  ?  The  running- 
gear  is  out  of  order  somewhere.  There  is  one  other  thing:  I 
waked  up  the  other  night,  and  grew  very  nervous  thinking  of 
our  drainage.  One  pipe  that  runs  out  of  the  cellar  is  defective. 
I  fear  you  will  get  the  fever  or  diphtheria,  unless  it  is  all  right. 
Have  it  looked  to  at  once.  I  expect  to  be  home  in  a  week 
or  ten  days  from  now.  I  have  seen  all  the  picture-galleries  and 
art-rooms,  and  have  ransacked  five  or  six  old  bookstores  from 
198 


A   LETTER  FROM  HESTER.  199 

top  to  bottom.  I  shall  bring  you  some  prizes.  What  do  you 
say  to  a  —  Wait  until  you  see  it. 

I  find  your  friend  Mr.  Craig  has  been  used  to  a  paper- 
muslin  kind  of  women,  who  are  wilted  by  any  exposure  outside 
of  a  parlor.  Undoubtedly  I  have  shocked  him  terribly,  —  last 
week,  for  once,  most  effectually.  One  day  when  I  was  in  the 
city,  I  saw  a  queer  -white  wooden  box  on  wheels,  and  was  told 
that  it  was  the  "  Black  Maria,"  that  took  the  sick  to  the  free 
hospitals,  the  insane  to  the  asylums,  and  the  criminals  to  pun- 
ishment. I  asked  Mr.  Craig  that  same  evening  all  about  those 
places,  —  where  they  were,  and  so  on.  I  received  full  and 
explicit  information  in  regard  to  the  "  institutions  of  charity 
and  correction,"  with  many  statistics,  all  in  that  gentleman's 
faultless  style  of  conversation.  Now,  I  had  never  been  over 
a  hospital  in  all  my  life ;  and  it  occurred  to  me  instantly  that 
I  would  like  to  see  a  monstrous  institution  of  this  sort,  and  I 
said  so.  He  said  no,  I  would  not.  I  answered  that  I  certainly 
would.  I  suppose  it  is  the  doctor  in  me,  as  you  say;  but  it 
seems  as  if  I  do  have  the  same  kind  of  interest  in  sickness  and 
suffering  that  uncle  Jack  had,  and  I  am  drawn  to  places  where 
I  know  it  is.  Well,  this  autocrat  of  an  editor  said  something 
about  morbid  curiosity  that  provoked  me — as  if  I  wanted  just 
to  look  at  suffering  as  a  spectacle.  I  could  not  explain  what 
I  wished  to  go  for ;  but  it  certainly  was  not  that.  I  found  out  I 
must  start  from  here  quite  early  in  the  morning  in  order  to  get 

to  the  foot  of  Street,  to  take  a  boat  for  the  islands.     I 

must  return,  of  course,  in  the  afternoon.  Now,  a  woman  of  my 
age  and  experience  does  not  like  to  be  told  of  trivial  little 
unpleasantnesses,  or  to  have  people  act  as  if  any  undertaking 
at  all  out  of  the  usual  line  of  sight-seeing  was  vaguely  improper 
in  mysterious  ways.  To  be  sure,  I  did  not  care  to  have  aunt 
Pepperfield  know  where  I  was  going ;  for  she  would  make 


200  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

uncle  Pepperfield  go  along  with  me,  or  else  she  wouid  worry. 
Mr.  Craig  proposed  that  I  should  wait  to  have  him  for  a  com- 
panion. I  did  not  need  or  want  him  :  so  I  refused,  and  started 
off  last  Wednesday  alone.  When  I  arrived  at  the  wharf,  I 
asked  if  the  boat  which  I  saw  there  went  to  the  particular  hos- 
pital that  I  meant  to  visit;  and  I  was  told  yes.  So  it  did,  but 
it  stopped  several  times  on  the  way.  It  stopped  first  at  a  great 
lunatic-asylum.  I  cheerily  walked  off  a  plank,  and  discovered 
my  mistake  when  the  steamer  was  puffing  away  far  from  shore, 
and  a  few  lunatics  besides  myself  were  left  behind.  They  all 
had  attendants,  however ;  and  in  this  I  was  at  a  disadvantage. 
I  asked  one  of  these  what  was  the  sanest  thing  that  I  could  do ; 
and  I  was  told  to  walk  for  a  mile  or  more  to  the  other  end  of 
this  island,  where  I  would  find  my  hospital.  If  I  did  not  wish 
to,  there  was  an  almshouse,  a  penitentiary,  and,  I  believe,  an 
idiot-asylum  near,  where  I  might  find  refuge.  I  walked  ;  and  I 
think  it  was  the  most  exciting  promenade  I  ever  took.  The 
path  ran  along  by  the  water,  in  front  of  all  these  buildings  ; 
very  conveniently  situated,  too,  for  me  to  jump  in,  if  any  one 
pursued  me  viciously.  However,  I  enjoyed  it;  being  only 
sorry  that  the  clouds  looked  like  rain.  I  met  a  group  of  women 
in  Shaker-hats,  sitting  on  the  sunny  side  of  a  sort  of  summer- 
house,  and  one  of  them  urged  me  to  stay  to  tea.  Poor  crea- 
tures !  I  was  hurrying  along,  when  they  shouted  out  to  know 
if  I  could  not  sing.  I  suppose  it  was  very  absurd ;  but  I  sat 
down  on  an  inverted  wheelbarrow  a  little  way  off,  and  gave 
them  "  The  Sweet  By  and  By."  They  proposed  to  dance  when 
I  ended :  so  I  went  on,  although  I  felt  more  at  ease  on  the 
lunatics'  ground  than  when  I  neared  the  penitentiary,  where 
convicts  in  striped  clothes  were  at  work.  I  reasoned  that  there 
must  be  a  guard  around,  and  hurried  along.  After  a  long  walk, 
I  reached  the  great  hospital,  —  a  castle  of  misery,  with  great 


A  LETTER  FROM  HESTER.  201 

stone  turrets  against  the  sky.  I  shall  tell  you  nothing  of  what 
I  saw  or  heard  until  I  get  home.  I  did  not  think  any  thing 
about  the  time  until  three  o'clock ;  then  I  heard  that  the  boat 
would  not  be  along  again  in  an  hour,  having  been  already  up 
and  down  once  since  I  came.  Now,  I  ought  to  have  asked  if  it 
did  not  stop  right  there  where  I  was ;  but,  you  see,  I  imagined 
that  I  must,  of  course,  go  back,  and  get  on  to  it  where  I  got  off. 
I  walked  stupidly  over  the  whole  ground  again,  in  a  Scotch 
mist,  which  took  all  the  curl  out  of  my  pretty  brown  hat-plume. 
I  was  no  sooner  at  the  landing  than  I  discovered  that  my 
steamer  had  stopped  away  back  at  the  hospital  I  had  left,  and 
now  was  puffing  right  away,  down  to  the  city,  leaving  me, 
Hester  Prescott,  high,  but  not  dry,  on  the  rocks  in  front  of  a 
mad-house,  at  five  o'clock  of  a  December  afternoon.  No  one 
knew  where  I  was.  Aunt  Pepperfield  thought  I  had  been 
sauntering  through  Schaus's  or  Goupil's.  When  the  boat  was 
out  of  sight,  I  thought  it  was  all  I  could  do  decide  whether 
I  should  ask  shelter,  for  the  time  being,  as  idiotic,  poverty- 
stricken,  or  insane.  The  latter  concession  to  circumstances 
seemed  the  least  humiliating:  so  I  pattered  up  to  a  gloomy 
portal  in  a  pair  of  very  damp  kid  shoes,  where  I  encountered  a 
polite  and  quite  rational  doctor,  to  whom  I  told  my  tale,  fearful 
that  he  would  not  believe  it,  but  would  pull  a  strait-jacket  out 
of  his  pocket.  No :  he  told  me  he  could  send  me  back  to  the 
hospital  again,  with  an  order  which  would  enable  me  to  cross 
the  river  in  a  tug-boat;  then,  landing  up  town,  I  could,  by 
cross  cars  and  stages,  work  my  way  to  the  ferry,  and  possibly 
get  out  to  Ingleside  by  eight  or  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening. 
Perhaps  you  think  I  was  sorry  that  I  came.  I  was  not  at  all. 
Well,  this  time  I  rode  in  my  carriage,  —  a  unique  equipage  with 
a  lock  and  key.  Its  battered  sides  suggested  that  it  had  carried 
more  uneasy  passengers  than  I  was.  In  a  short  time  I  took 


202  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

the  tug-boat,  which  brought  me  safe  across  to  an  unfamiliar 
part  of  the  city,  where  I  was  told  to  walk  a  few  blocks,  and  find 
my  car.  It  was  getting  almost  dark,  and  I  was  very  tired, 
when  I  discovered  a  man  unmistakably  following  me,  and  that 
very  fast.  I  dashed  out  into  a  crowd  on  the  near  avenue,  and 
rushed  into  the  car,  which  happily,  as  I  thought,  was  on  the 
spot.  We  started  at  once ;  but  more  trouble  was  to  come.  I 
was  on  the  right  car ;  but  I  did  not  get  off  at  the  right  street. 
I  went  seventeen  miles,  more  or  less,  out  of  my  way,  before  I 
alighted,  to  discover  the  fact  later.  The  first  thing  that  I  saw 
was  an  act  of  oppression  which  stirred  my  blood.  You  will 
laugh  now:  I  did,  after  I  was  home.  A  street  girl  —  a  big, 
ungainly  Arab,  or  Arabess  —  had  pounced  on  a  smaller  one, 
laid  her  flat  on  the  pavement,  and  was  (as  I  thought)  pulling  out 
one  of  her  teeth.  I  came  to  the  rescue,  and  she  bellowed  that 
it  was  her  chewing-gum.  Well,  the  principle  is  the  same.  I 
seized  the  big  girl  by  the  arm,  and  exclaimed,  "  Give  it  back, 
right  away !  Aren't  you  ashamed  ? " 

" Sic  semper  tyrannis"  said  some  one  solemnly  in  my  ear ; 
and  there,  in  his  new  ulster,  with  a  big  umbrella,  and  a  roll  of 
manuscript  in  each  pocket,  stood  your  Mr.  Craig.  He  put  the 
umbrella  over  me,  offered  his  arm,  and  asked  if  it  made  any 
difference  which  way  we  went. 

"  Where  did  I  seem  to  be  going  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  South  by  south-west,  or  directly  toward  the  Tombs,"  he 
answered  blandly. 

I  said  it  was  too  late  for  a  visit  there :  I  would  go  home, 
instead.  I  wonder,  if  you  had  been  as  tired,  as  hungry,  had 
felt  so  like  a  fool,  as  I  did  then,  you  would  have  liked  to  con- 
sider how  proper,  aristocratic,  and  almost  like  a  stranger,  this 
man  was  of  whom  you  must  ask  the  way  home.  He  is  a  gentle- 
man. He  only  said,  "You  are  in  a  puzzling  part  of  the  city: 


A  LETTER  FROM  HESTER.  203 

I  am  very  glad  I  found  you."  Then,  as  bluntly  as  uncle  Pepper- 
field  would  have  taken  care  of  me,  he  asked,  "  Have  you  had 
any  thing  to  eat  since  morning?  I  know  you  have  not.  I  am 
very  hungry  myself.  We  shall  not  get  into  Ingleside  before  nine 
o'clock:  so  let  us  get  some  coffee  and  oysters.  There  is  a  quiet, 
neat  little  restaurant  near  here  :  let  us  find  it." 

On  the  way  to  the  ferry,  I  asked  him  how  he  came  to  be  on 
the  spot  where  I  alighted  from  the  cars.     He  said  he  went  early 

in  the  afternoon  to  the  foot  of Street,  to  meet  me  on  my 

return  to  the  city.  When  he  found  I  had  missed  the  last  boat, 
he  asked  what  I  would  probably  do,  and  was  told  of  the  tug- 
boat, in  which  he  could  go  across  and  find  me,  if  he  first  rode 
up  town.  He  did  so,  and  did  not  have  to  go  across  ;  for  at  the 
boat  he  learned  a  lady  had  just  been  brought  over,  and  was 
walking  up  the  block.  He  turned,  followed  quickly,  and  saw 
me  enter  a  car.  He  caught  the  next  one,  and,  standing  in  front, 
could  watch  me,  and  tell  when  I  got  out.  It  was  he  from  whom 
I  ran  away;  but  I  did  not  tell  him  that.  I  was  grateful  to  him 
for  taking  so  much  trouble,  although  he  made  nothing  of  it; 
and,  whatever  he  thought,  he  did  not  imply  in  words  that  I  had 
done  any  thing  singular.  He  only  asked  if  I  was  glad  I  had 
gone,  and  I  said  yes ;  for  now  I  know  exactly  how  poor  little 
Jim  Welles  ought  to  be  treated  for  his  deformity.  He  need 
not  suffer  one-half  the  pain  he  has.  One  of  the  doctors  had  a 
similar  case  in  the  hospital;  and,  after  I  asked  a  few  questions, 
he  described  his  treatment  to  me  in  detail.  Tell  Jim's  mother 
to  stop  what  she  was  doing  when  I  came  away,  and  wait  until  I 
get  home.  I  have  learned  a  great  deal  from  that  one  visit. 
The  coffee  must  have  excited  me ;  for  I  told  Mr.  Craig  all  my 
experiences,  and  talked  until  he  must  have  been  amazed.  How- 
ever, I  do  not  think  I  have  said  ten  words  to  him  since  then : 
so  that  is  atoned  for.  We  were  home  before  nine,  and  Mr. 


204  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

Craig  passed  it  off  as  nothing  strange.  He  said  he  met  me  in 
town,  and  we  were  belated.  Of  course,  I  told  aunt  Pepperfield 
all  about  it  the  next  day.  She  turned  pale,  and  went  away  and 
fumigated  all  my  clothes.  Yesterday  she  said  she  had  read 
they  "had  the  leprosy  over  there."  She  was  relieved  to  learn 
that  it  was  not  on  exhibition,  if  "  there  "  at  all.  ... 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Whose  Rose   Was  It? 

MR.  SEVERN  was  glad  that  he  had  been  in  the 
habit  of  writing  his  sermons  in  the  early  part 
of  the  day,  and  taking  his  evenings  for  any  occupa- 
tion that  suited  him  best.  Now,  it  was  very  natural 
that  he  should  join  the  social  family  circle  that 
usually  formed  itself  about  the  centre-table  in  the 
library,  these  long  evenings  of  the  early  winter. 
Sometimes  he  read  to  the  rest,  a  few  pages  at  a  time, 
with  long  digressions,  often  started  by  Granty,  whose 
keen  eyes  twinkled  over  her  glittering  knitting- 
needles.  She  could  be  busy  with  them,  yet  alert 
enough  to  follow  every  page  read.  Jack  and  the  old 
cat,  in  a  tender  embrace,  would  sit  at  his  feet ;  but 
even  these  listeners  might  not  have  been  satisfying, 
had  the  young  ladies  been  absent.  It  was  inspiring 
to  Mr.  Severn  to  have  Dorothy  make  her  good-natured 
comments,  or  to  look  up  and  see  Marion's  eyes  fixed 
on  the  glowing  coals,  her  own  thoughts  sent  all 
abroad  by  some  suggestive  sentence.  He  always 

205 


206  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

knew,  too,  if  Hester  was  there,  if  she  did  not  once 
speak.  He  had  found  out  what  books  she  liked,  and 
divined  her  opinions  on  many  things  of  which  she 
never  talked.  People  who  knew  Hester  for  any 
length  of  time  always  did  understand  her  aright,  if 
they  were  the  kind  of  people  whose  appreciation  sig- 
nified at  all.  The  tone  in  which  she  said,  "  Humph," 
after  some  exquisite  poem,  for  instance,  was  as  ex- 
pressive as  an  effusion  of  sentiment  from  somebody 
else ;  while  her  longer  utterances  were  remembered 
when  blander  ones  might  be  forgotten. 

Since  his  theological-seminary  days,  Mr.  Severn 
had  not  given  himself  in  any  marked  degree  to 
ladies'  society.  At  that  period  of  his  life  he  had 
been  shy,  but  not  unsusceptible  :  later,  work,  travel, 
and  books  had  kept  him  from  matrimony.  A  few 
weeks  of  life  in  the  Howells  family  had  made  him 
think  his  tastes  must  be  those  of  a  recluse,  and  that 
old  Thomas  a  Kempis  was  shrewd,  as  well  as  pious, 
in  dismissing  the  subject  with  "commend  all  good 
women  in  general  to  the  Lord." 

A  few  months  here  had  wrought  a  change.  He 
was  like  a  boat  long  snugly  moored,  but  by  secret 
agencies  gradually  made  free,  and  sent  adrift,  fanned 
by  quite  new  breezes,  shaken  by  currents  unfelt 
before.  What  would  Dorothy  have  thought,  or  Hes- 
ter, or  Marion,  had  they  known  that  he  returned 


WHOSE  ROSE    WAS  IT? 


207 


from  a  call  one  evening,  and  found  in  the  hall  a  tiny 
white  Christmas  rose  dropped  by  one  of  them  ? 
The  rose  went  up  to  the  minister's  room :  the 
thoughts  it  stirred  into  a  poem  that  nobody  ever 
saw,  nor  was  it  meant  for  sight.  Dorothy  did  take 
note  of  his  increasing  interest  in  them  all  as, a  family. 
By  common  consent,  uncle  Jack's  office  had  been 
given  up  to  a  worker,  the  minister,  and  the  skeleton. 
The  singular  trio  spent  much  time  there  in  perfect 
harmony.  One  half  the  room,  quite  shut  in  by  a 
folding-screen,  contained  pills  and  powders,  medical 
briefs,  surgical  instruments,  phials,  bottles,  ledgers, 
and,  in  turn,  Dorothy's  account-books,  Marion's 
manuscripts,  and  Hester's  easel.  The  minister's 
half,  quite  secluded  also,  was  his  study ;  and  beyond, 
in  its  silken  drapery,  was  the  third,  the  silent  partner, 
who  disturbed  none  of  the  others. 

One  afternoon  Marion  was  quietly  sitting  by  uncle 
Jack's  writing-desk,  when  Mr.  Severn,  from  behind 
the  partition,  said,  "  May  I  come  in  there  for  a 
while  ? " 

"  Certainly,"  she  responded,  arising  to  turn  around 
an  enormous  wooden  chair  that  filled  one  corner  of 
the  room,  its  arms  hospitably  extended  to  welcome  a 
giant. 

"  I  can  never,  with  propriety,  say  I  will  take  that 
chair,"  he  said,  entering  through  the  hall ;  "  but,  so 
far  as  I  go,  I  will  let  it  take  me." 


208  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

He  seated  himself;  and  Marion  saw  in  his  hand 
the  roll  of  papers  whose  return  she  had  expected 
with  some  anxiety.  He  talked  of  indifferent  matters, 
until  she  asked  directly,  "  If  you  were  me,  would  you 
republish  that  story  in  book-form  ?  " 

"  Do  not  put  a  question  to  me  in  that  way ;  for  I 
cannot  answer  it.  I  do  not  know  you  as  I  ought. 
I  should  have  to  know  your  motive  in  publishing  any 
book." 

"  My  chief  motive  in  publishing  this  would  be  to 
make  money." 

He  had  not  expected  such  an  answer,  and  he 
looked  disappointed.  But  he  answered,  "  Then,  if  I 
know  any  thing  about  one  kind  of  success,  I  think 
you  would  succeed,  —  would  make  money,  as  you 
say." 

Marion  looked  past  him  out  of  the  window,  with 
the  earnest,  unworldly  look  in  her  refined  face,  —  the 
look  well  known  to  him,  —  that  had  made  her  merce- 
nary words  have  almost  the  shock  of  vulgarity. 

"  I  do  not  want  money  because  I  love  it,  or  because 
I  ever  wrote  for  the  sake  of  it  before.  I  never  did. 
Only  I  wish  it  now,"  she  said,  looking  in  his  face. 
And  he  gladly  believed  her  when  she  added,  "  But, 
all  that  aside,  I  shall  not  republish  this  if  it  is  not  a 
good  book.  What  do  you  think  of  it  ?  " 

"From  a  dramatic  point  of  view,  it  is  excellent.     It 


WHOSE  ROSE    WAS  IT?  209 

has  unity ;  is  very  spirited.  Its  delineations  of  pas- 
sion are  intense,  but  not  overdrawn.  It  is  exceed- 
ingly witty.  You  have  shown  power  in  casting 
scenes  that  are  natural,  and  in  portraying  characters 
which  are  lifelike,  especially  when  one  reflects  that 
you  can  never  have  been  in  such  society,  or  known  inti- 
mately such  persons.  You  read  a  few  French  novels 
before  you  wrote  this  story ;  not  many  (for  it  is  not 
an  imitation),  but  enough  to  know  by  artistic  intuition 
what  lives  wholly  apart  from  your  own  were  like.  I 
find  it  different  in  every  respect  from  your  other 
writings,  and  as  unlike  you.  It  has  certainly  some 
remarkable  merits." 

Mr.  Severn  stopped,  as  if  he  had  said  all  he  wished 
to  say,  and  yet  not  all  he  would  say.  The  color  in 
Marion's  cheek  had  not  deepened  by  a  tint  at  his 
words.  She  was  no  tremulous  young  girl  with  her 
first  book.  She  knew  how  her  story  had  impressed 
others,  as  good  judges  of  literary  work  as  Mr.  Sev- 
ern. She  was  not  surprised  at  what  she  had  heard 
before,  and  it  did  not  occur  to  her  to  feign  surprise. 
She  went  deeper  than  before,  saying,  "  Tell  me,  Mr. 
Severn,  if  you  think  this  is  a  good  book,  judged  by 
your  ideas  of  a  good  one." 

"  I  shall  not  answer  you  in  character  as  a  minis- 
ter, remember,  but  simply  as  a  man.  Some  of  the 
truest,  noblest  books  I  have  ever  read  have  not  any 


210  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

'religion,' as  the  word  goes,  from  title-page  to  end. 
I  do  not  demand  that  a  book  of  fiction  be  pious  :  I 
only  think  it  should  stand  a  few  tests  to  be  called 
'good.'" 

"  What  tests  ? "  asked  Marion  promptly.  His  eyes 
had  a  sorry  expression,  as  if  he  wished  he  were  back 
the  other  side  of  the  screen,  instead  of  sitting  here, 
making  this  gentle  young  woman  look  at  her  papers 
as  severely  as  if  saying,  "Come  up  to  the  judgment- 
seat,  and  stand  or  fall !  "  She  wanted  money  for 
good  reasons  probably ;  and  if  he  went  on  he  might 
be,  figuratively,  picking  her  pockets.  He  smiled, 
with  a  futile  attempt  t&  evade  her  by  saying,  "  My 
tests  would  not  be  your  tests  if  I  were  in  your  place ; 
but  I  should  have  yours  :  so  the  question  now  really 
is,  what  yours  are." 

"  Not  so,"  she  answered.  "  My  question  is  of 
yours,  and  you  have  not  yet  answered  it." 

He  waited  a  moment,  then  asked,  "If  all  your 
stories  but  one  must  be  unwritten,  would  you  choose 
this  for  the  fittest  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Why  not  ?  Or  may  I  ask  if  it  is  not  for  one  rea- 
son, —  that  it  is  not  a  real  expression  of  yourself  ?  A 
writer's  best  book  ought  to  be  that.  I  do  not  think 
you  could  have  told  this  story  better ;  but  it  is  not  a 
good  story  for  you  to  tell.  You  have  been  delicate, 


WHOSE  ROSE    WAS  IT?  211 

artistic,  vaguely  suggestive,  when  you  could  not  have 
been  definite  without  being  coarse.  Another  telling 
this  same  story  would  have  left  out  half-tints,  put  in 
'details,  and  the  book  would  have  been  morally  bad. 
It  only  failed  to  be,  because,  there  being  too  little 
evil  in  you  for  the  purpose,  you  innocently  made  it 
brilliant  instead  of  wicked.  The  first  page  will  hold 
the  reader ;  the  whole  story  will  fascinate  him  or  her  : 
but  nobody  will  be  stronger,  more  hopeful  in  self, 
more  helpful  to  others,  for  such  fiction.  You  may 
here  detect  the  preacher  in  me,  and  for  your  part 
believe  that  stories  are  best  when  morally  purpose- 
less, if  only  well  written.  If  you  do,  I  can  only  re- 
peat that  this  story  is  effective  and  original  :  it  may 
be  a  popular  success.  I  sat  up  half  a  night  to  read 
it,  and  had  a  headache  all  the  next  day.  Can  I  give 
you  a  stronger  proof  that  it  is  interesting  ?  " 

"  I  think  myself  that  it  is  not  stupid,"  said  Marion, 
laughing,  and  rolling  the  papers  into  a  tighter  bundle. 

He  was  glad  to  detect  no  resentment  in  her  tone, 
or  any  look  of  wounded  vanity  in  her  face.  She 
arose,  and  drew  back  the  curtain  to  let  in  the  glow 
of  a  brief  winter  sunset ;  then  she  turned,  and  with- 
out any  ceremony  dropped  the  roll  of  papers  back 
in  the  hottest  coals  of  the  grate,  saying,  with  a  laugh, 
"  Have  you  ever  heard  of  the  little  boy  who  declared 
that  '  pins  had  saved  thousands  of  lives  by  not  being 


212  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

swallowed  '  ?  On  the  same  principle,  perhaps,  you 
have  saved  scores  of  people  from  vexation  of  spirit, 
Mr.  Severn.  This  great  success  of  a  book  (we  will 
believe  it  would  have  been)  might  have  been  the  one 
to  be  peddled  on  the  cars  all  summer,  to  be  thrust 
into  tired  travellers'  faces  by  troublesome  agents. 
Now  we  prevent  all  that  by  its  not  being  published." 

"  I  am  not  at  all  sure  they  would  thank  me  if  they 
knew  what  I  had  done,"  said  he  half  ruefully.  "  You 
did  not  tell  me  I  was  to  be  the  ultimate  authority. 
You  only  asked  my  opinion." 

"  And  I  should  not  have  accepted  it,  if  it  had  not 
seemed  right  in  my  own  eyes.  I  thank  you  very 
much  for  reading  the  story,  and  am  sorry  it  gave  you 
a  headache.  You  should  not  have  sat  up  so  late :  a 
minister  who  preaches  moderation  should  practise  it 
in  novel -reading." 

"  A  minister  is  just  like  any  other  man,"  returned 
Mr.  Severn,  leaning  back  in  the  great  chair,  and 
thinking  a  layman  or  priest  watching  Marion,  with  the 
yellow  light  on  her  brown  hair,  her  graceful  figure, 
and  dainty  dress,  —  any  man  would  wander  in  thought 
from  the  woman's  work  to  the  lovable  woman  herself. 
Mr.  Severn's  fancies  did,  and  not  for  the  first  time. 
It  was  also  perhaps  reprehensible  in  him,  after  spoil-, 
ing  her  pecuniary  prospects  as  he  had,  that  he  heard 
her  with  positive  pleasure,  when  later  she  said,  "  I 


WHOSE  ROSE    WAS  IT? 


213 


have  concluded,  Mr.  Severn,  that  I  cannot  go '  vaga- 
bondizing '  about  Europe  for  a  long  time  to  come.  I 
must  stay  at  home  for  several  reasons." 

"  I  am  glad,"  he  answered. 

She  looked  up  surprised,  and  met  a  gleam  from 
his  eyes,  which  caused  her  afterwards  to  reflect  that 
kindly  people,  when  they  happen  to  have  fine  eyes, 
may  seem  to  express  therewith  much  more  warmth 
of  sympathy  than  there  is  any  reason  to  suppose 
they  feel.  At  the  time  she  was  embarrassed.  There 
seemed  a  new  subtile  something  in  her  companion's 
tone  and  manner ;  or  was  she  fanciful  in  that  half 
mystical  light  of  the  gloamin'  that  lingered  after  the 
day  ?  Their  conversation  had  been  practical ;  but, 
when  the  subject-matter  of  it  was  reduced  to  ashes, 
Mr.  Severn  did  not  return  to  his  sermon.  Marion 
wondered  ;  but  she  rather  enjoyed  having  him  neg- 
lect the  spiritual  interests  of  his  parishioners,  in  a 
mild  fashion  of  course. 

Presently,  down  the  hall  came  an  approaching 
whistle,  so  loud,  so  shrill,  so  windy,  the  mystery  was 
that  Jack  ever  got  it  well  under  way  without  ex- 
ploding in  the  process.  He  blew  it  off,  however, 
before  he  banged  the  office-door  with  a  crash  that 
set  the  silent  partner  into  a  dismal  agitation,  anjd 
made  the  minister  cry,  "  Alas,  poor  Yorick  !  Have 
mercy  on  him,  Jack  !  "  Then  he  arose,  and,  reach- 


214  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

ing  out  his  hand,  said,  "  I  hope  you  will  not  be  sorry 
you  asked  me  to  read  the  story." 

Marion  gave  hina  her  hand  a  second,  saying,  "  You 
were  sincere  enough  to  tell  me  the  truth,  and  I  had 
sense  enough  to  receive  it.  There  can  be  nothing  to 
regret." 

"  Supper  is  ready,"  said  Jack.  "  Didn't  you  hear 
the  bell  ? " 

They  heard,  and  obeyed  it  a  moment  after. 

"  Is  Mr.  Severn  going  back  to  board  at  the  How- 
ells'  ?  "  asked  Jack  very  abruptly  that  night  of  Mari- 
on, as  she  was  bidding  him  good-night  in  his  room. 

"  Why,  no.     Why  do  you  ask  ?  " 

"  Oh,  nothing  !  Only,  when  he  was  shaking  hands 
in  the  office,  he  looked  —  looked  like  folks  do  when 
they  aren't  going  to  see  their  friends  very  often." 

"  '  Like  folks  do  '  is  an  incorrect  expression,"  said 
Marion,  smiling  in  the  dark.'  "As  folks  do,  you 
should  say." 

Then  the  light  was  turned  up  that  Jack  might  see 
if  any  ghosts  or  stray  wild  animals  from  African 
jungles  were  lurking  behind  washstand  or  bureau. 
There  were  none  ;  and  he  slept  in  peace. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

A    Watch  in  the  Night. 

A  NOTHER  'Phoenix'  office  letter!"  cried  Jack, 
•L*.  prancing  into  the  library,  and  dropping  it  into 
Hester's  lap,  as  she  sat  reading  by  the  table. 

"  The  second  one  this  week.  What  does  he  write 
about  ?  "  asked  Dorothy. 

"  I  could  tell  better,  if  he  wrote  to  me,"  answered 
Hester,  studying  the  bold  chirography.  "  I  think  he 
has  accepted  another  article,  and  writes  to  Marion 
about  a  change  in  it." 

"  Well,"  said  Granty,  who  was  very  shrewd  in 
times  when  one  least  expected  her  to  be,  "  I  think 
he  writes  longer  letters  to  her,  and  oftener,  than  edit- 
ors with  whom  she  has  had  far  more  business.  She 
has  had  but  two  articles  before  this  in  '  The  Phoenix.'  " 

"  His  being  an  intimate  friend  of  the  Pepperfields' 
makes  a  difference  ;  and  he  knows  Marion  well,"  said 
Dorothy. 

"And  you  too,  Hester.     Did  you  like  him  ?  " 

"Yes." 

215 


216  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

"  As  well  as  you  like  — as  we  all  like  Mr.  Severn  ? " 

"Yes.     They  are  men  not  at  all  alike." 

"  How  do  they  differ  ?  "  asked  Dorothy. 

Hester  answered,  "  Marion  says,  if  a  man  insulted 
Mr.  Severn  in  his  study,  he  would  say,  '  Go  ! '  The 
look  in  his  eyes  would  send  him  over  the  threshold. 
Mr.  Craig  would  make  a  remark  he  would  remember, 
but  make  it  with  a  grip  on  his  collar.  There  'is  fight 
in  both  of  them;  but  one  would  go  into  a  contest 
with  fate  hot  and  heavy,  and  compel  the  issue :  the 
other  would  endure  much.  Either  might  be  a  gener- 
al, but  only  Mr.  Severn  could  be  a  martyr." 

"  Well,"  continued  Granty,  "  from  some  things 
Jack  has  told  me  from  time  to  time,  I  judge  the  in- 
terest Mr.  Craig  took  in  Marion  last  summer  was 
rather  marked.  Do  editors  usually  go  beech-nut- 
ting with  their  lady-contributors,  and  lend  them  the 
newest  books  ?  To  be  sure,  it  was  natural  enough. 
Marion  is  young  yet,  and  very  good-looking.  I  am 
not  sure  Mr.  Severn  does  not  enjoy  our  society  bet- 
ter than  he  did  before  she  returned." 

"  It  will  do  him  no  good,"  returned  Hester.  "  Mar- 
ion will  never  marry  a  minister." 

"  No,  not  if  he  were  made  of  gold,  and  studded 
all  over  with  diamonds  —  or  so  she  told  me  once," 
remarked  Granty,  making  Jack  hunt  for  one  of  her 
knitting-needles.  When  it  was  found,  she  took  him 
to  bed,  leaving  Hester  and  Dorothy  together. 


A    WATCH  IN  THE  NIGHT.  217 

"  Do  you  think  there  is  any  thing  in  this  notion 
of  Granty's  about  Mr.  Craig  ?  "  asked  Dorothy. 

"  I  cannot  tell,"  answered  Hester  sharply.  "  Per- 
haps there  is.  If  he  is  not  one  to  be  pleased  with 
every  woman  he  meets  in  that  way,  and  to  show 
the  admiration  a  man  had  better  keep  to  himself, 
unless  he  means  it  to  be  seen  for  a  purpose,  I  do  not 
understand  him." 

Dorothy  secretly  wondered  if  what  Granty  had 
said  of  Mr.  Severn  had  in  any  way  jarred  on  Hes- 
ter. Then  she  fell  to  musing  on  changes  in  the 
domestic  atmosphere  of  late.  It  seemed  to  her  new 
elements  had  been  introduced  ;  and  she  was  not  mis- 
taken. For  several  years  previous  to  this,  these 
young  women  had  painted  and  written,  and  kept 
house,  had  petted  little  Jack,  and  cared  for  uncle 
Jack,  had  not  in  all  that  time  talked  much  or  thought 
more  of  men  or  marriage.  Now,  not  one  of  them 
was  engaged,  not  one  of  them  in  love  (unless  the 
malady  was  deep-seated  and  occult) ;  yet  the  pro- 
posal of  Mr.  Scudder,  or  the  introduction  of  Mr. 
Severn,  or  the  acquaintance  of  the  editor  of  "The 
Phoenix,"  or  all  of  these  together,  had  worked  a 
change. 

As  Hester  painted,  she  asked  herself,  "  What  if 
things  are  thus  or  so  ? "  When  Marion  tried  to  write 
stories  with  "  warmth  enough  of  sentiment  to  suit 


2l8  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

a  love-liking  public,"  she  found  herself  shading  them 
off  into  vagueness  which  was  sure  to  be  displeasing 
to  people  who  wanted  every  detail  clear.  As  for 
Dorothy,  she  had  actual  and  romantic  work  on  hand. 
Mr.  Scudder  held  such  amicable  interviews  with  her, 
that  Granty  was  puzzled,  especially  as  "  he  had' begun 
going  to  the  Howells'  two  or  three  times  a  week ; " 
or  so  she  affirmed.  The  truth  was,  that,  since  the 
day  that  Dorothy  took  Molly  to  look  at  his  farm,  Mr. 
Scudder's  mind  had  been  settled  as  to  the  person 
whom  he  desired  for  the  future  Mrs.  Scudder.  His 
way  was  hedged  in  at  first :  a  less  determined  suitor 
would  have  lost  the  day.  He  wore  such  gay  ties  and 
fine  vests,  so  many  charms  on  his  watch-chain,  that 
Miss  Maude  made  endless  fun  of  him.  Molly  was 
kind-hearted,  and,  feeling  guilty  because  she  laughed 
also,  she  endeavored  to  treat  him  with  more  cordial- 
ity. To  this  end,  she  drew  him  on  to  talk  of  what 
he  best  understood,  and  after  a  while  was  herself 
interested  in  his  farm  and  in  his  plans.  She  unwit- 
tingly improved  him ;  and  his  attire  grew  simpler, 
his  manner  quieter.  The  result  was  not  surprising 
to  Dorothy.  Molly  was  tired  of  her  life  of  inaction  : 
she  saw  another,  in  which  was  abundant  promise  of 
activity  and  independence.  There  was  no  sentimen- 
tality in  Molly  :  she  had  no  beau  ideal  of  a  husband 
to  banish  before  she  could  begin  to  like  Mr.  Scudder 


A    WATCH  IN  THE  NIGHT.  219 

when  once  she  saw  his  genuine  good  qualities.  For 
a  while  Mrs.  Howells  was  at  her  wits'  ends  to  know 
where  among  her  bric-a-brac,  her  old  china  and 
Japanese  fans,  her  screens  and  antique  jugs,  to  find 
a  place  for  this  big  provincial  curiosity. 

We  greatly  fear  he  never  would  have  been  allowed 
to  rest  his  elbows  in  her  embroidered  sofa-cushions, 
or  put  his  head  against  her  Turkish  chairs,  had  it 
not  been  for  his  wide-stretching  acres.  As  it  was, 
he  came  until  he  conquered ;  and  Molly  confessed  to 
Dorothy  she  preferred  hearing  about  his  farm,  his 
children,  and  his  neighbors,  to  opera  music  or  talk 
about  art.  She  avowed  that  she  hated  "  aht." 

So,  also,  Mr.  Scudder  one  day  appeared  in  a  new 
and  faultless  suit  of  clothes,  and  to  Dorothy  told  the 
fact  of  his  engagement  to  Miss  Mary  Howells.  He 
asked  for  Hester,  and  bashfully  informed  her  that  he 
would  be  delighted  if  she  would  now  paint  Molly, 
"  thrown  up  as  big  as  ever  was  done  or  heard  of,  no 
matter  what  it  cost." 

Hester  labored  to  convince  him  that  a  picture  less 
than  life-size  would  be  better  than  one  larger,  and  he 
departed  radiant.  The  crowning  blessing  was  to  be 
added  to  his  life,  with  another  gem  to  his  collection 
of  family  portraits. 

But  to  return  to  Dorothy.  This  evening,  as  she 
sat  alone  with  Hester,  she  asked,  "  How  are  you  get- 


220  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

ting  on  with  Molly's  picture  ?  Better,  I  hope,  than 
Marion  does  with  her  writing." 

"  It  will  be  a  very  handsome  picture  when  done," 
said  Hester.  "  In  a  free,  large  way,  Molly  is  a  beau- 
ty. I  think  she  will  be  in  her  element  when  she  is 
living  in  the  country.  She  always  looks  too  big  and 
too  natural  for  her  home.  No  :  I  shall  not  fail  while 
I  have  pictures  like  this  to  paint ;  for  the  work  is 
largely  mechanical.  But  I  am  getting  tired  :  I  would 
like  to  stop,  and  "  — 

"  Go  to  Europe ! "  put  in  Dorothy  in  desperation, 
—  "  go  vagabondizing  and  zig-zagging  ? " 

"Yes.  Or  to  begin  studying  art,  really  studying  it 
in  the  way  I  have  come  to  see  I  ought.  What  I  am 
doing  now,  merely  to  earn  money,  is  unworthy  "  — 

"  Oh,  dear  me  !     Unworthy  of  what  ?  " 

"  Well,  not  of  myself ;  for  I  am  doing  it  from  the 
best  motives.  But  after  studying  really  fine  pic- 
tures, learning  what  conscientious  workers  are  doing, 
I  feel  like  a  dauber,  —  a  well-meaning  one,  but  a 
dauber,  nevertheless." 

"  Well,  well,"  said  Dorothy  bluntly,  "  I  wish  both 
of  you  had  staid  at  home !  Marion  questions  her 
talent  for  writing :  you  are  only  painting  mechani- 
cally. As  for  me,  I  am  also  losing  enthusiasm  in  my 
occupation,  which  is  mainly  to  make  five  dollars  do 
the  same  that  ten  dollars  did  in  palmier  days.  Hes- 


A    WATCH  IN  THE  NIGHT.  221 

ter,  tell  me  what  the  end  is  going  to  be  !  I  don't 
enjoy  economy  :  it  seriously  interferes  with  all  my 
plans." 

Hester  looked  grimly  at  the  portrait  of  a  great- 
uncle  who  had  squandered  a  fortune,  and  said  noth- 
ing, only  scowled,  as  if  asking  him  why  he  did  it ; 
then  she  arose  abruptly,  and  went  about  her  task  of 
locking  the  house  for  the  night.  This  was  a  task  not 
lightly  accomplished  ;  for,  no  matter  how  long  before 
Granty  may  have  retired,  she  issued  forth,  aroused  by 
some  instinct  that  told  her  what  Hester  was  about. 
She  must  be  assured  that  no  sparks  could  fly  from 
the  fireplaces,  that  no  cat  was  in  the  house,  and  that 
the  dog  was  ;  that  Bridget  had  mixed  the  buckwheat- 
cakes,  and  the  milk  was  where  it  would  not  sour. 
Last  of  all,  Hester  must  warn  Mr.  Severn  not  to 
leave  matches  in  his  papers,  lest  the  house  be  set  on 
fire.  She  always  attended  herself  to  these  same 
things  ;  but  this  was  a  test  applied  later  for  greater 
security.  To-night  Hester  knew  that  Mr.  Severn 
was  not  in  the  office :  so  she  went  to  cover  the  fire  in 
the  grate,  and  to  put  out  the  gas.  She  went  for  that 
purpose,  but  she  lingered.  Finding  the  quiet  room 
attractive,  she  sat  down  to  think  in  uncle  Jack's 
great  chair.  It  was  not  mere  discontent,  -or  the  fear 
of  poverty,  that  made  Hester,  as  she  sat  there,  turn 
over  in  her  mind  Dorothy's  words,  "  Tell  me  what 


222  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

the  end  s  going  to  be."  Of  late  many  thoughts  had 
come  to  her  :  she  was  not  satisfied  with  the  measure 
of  her  progress,  if,  indeed,  she  made  any  progress,  in 
her  favorite  art.  The  necessity  of  earning  money 
crippled  her  at  the  outset.  She  must  paint  what  she 
could  sell,  not  what  she  was  coming  surely  to  realize 
were  the  subjects  she  ought  to  attempt  for  her  own 
best  culture.  Back  still  of  this  was  the  knowledge, 
that,  even  if  she  could  cultivate  her  tastes  to  the 
utmost,  the  result  here  would  be,  Hester  Prescott,  a 
good  copyist.  She  had  not  the  genius  which  is  a 
law  unto  itself,  which  makes  a  man  or  a  woman  say, 
in  the  face  of  all  difficulties,  "  Woe  be  unto  me,  if  I 
use  not  the  gift  that  is  in  me  ! "  She  wished  that 
she  could  draw  and  paint  in  the  future  as  once  in  the 
past,  —  taking  brush  or  pencil  as  she  liked,  putting 
them  down  when  the  mood  changed.  Not  that  Hes- 
ter had  not  an  earnest  nature.  She  had  just  that  ; 
and  now,  in  the  full  prime  of  young  womanhood,  she 
felt  that  whatever  became  an  end  in  her  life'must 
absorb  her  whole  enthusiasm  and  energy  ;  that,  it 
being  her  work,  she  must  do  it  in  her  very  best  way. 
She  was  not  so  painting  :  she  could  not  so  paint,  and 
she  knew  it.  Therefore  to-night,  as  she  sat  putting 
questions  to  herself,  what  wonder  she  was  cast  down  ? 
that,  in  looking  out  on  the  future,  she  feared  a  pover- 
ty which  had  something  worse  in  it  than  any  that 


A    WATCH  IN  THE  NIGHT.  223 

concerned  her  outer  circumstances,  —  the  poverty  of 
an  inner  life  that  misses  the  mark,  —  its  mark  ?  Her 
sister  Marion's  doubts  of  herself  were  clouds  over  a 
sky  where  the  sun  did  surely  shine  ;  but  Hester  felt 
that  she  herself  was  going  on  in  a  way  that  grew 
gloomier,  —  not  a  wrong  way,  because  it  seemed  to 
her  the  only  way,  but  one  at  the  end  of  which  she 
saw  failure.  Yet  what  could  be  done  ?  The  lines 
were  cast  for  her.  She  had  no  time  to  speculate,  to 
build  castles  like  a  young  girl,  even  to  be  blue.  The 
shadows  danced  up  and  down  among  the  medical 
books  ;  the  lights  played  over  Hester  while  she  sat 
long  by  the  big  desk,  her  head  bent,  her  hands  on 
the  old  chair-arms,  just  where  the  doctor's  toil-worn 
ones  had  rubbed  them  bare  of  paint.  At  last  she 
arose,  and,  crossing  the  room,  opened  the  glass  doors 
of  a  case  as  the  clock  struck  midnight.  Often  before, 
when  Hester  felt  as  to-night,  she  had  gone  and  looked 
at  what  she  called  "our  inheritance."  On  a  shelf 
in  one  corner  were  a  pile  of  dusty,  leather-covered 
books,  each  lettered,  "  Physician's  Day-Book."  One 
looked  much  like  another  ;  for  all  were  full  of  uncle 
Jack's  close  writing  in  pencil, — names  and  names 
and  names  of  people  !  ^A  strange,  softened  awe  crept 
over  Hester  when  she  thought  what  those  names 
stood  for, — pains  and  groans  and  agony  ;  stood  for 
patients  of  uncle  Jack,  who,  scattered  far  and  wide, 


224  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

remembered  him  as  a  Great  Heart,  who  fought  battles 
for  them  with  death  itself,  and  conquered  ;  stood  for 
others,  who,  like  him,  had  gone  quite  beyond,  and 
left  only  names  behind.  She  wondered  if,  in  that  to 
her  dim  land,  he  had  yet  met  them,  and  talked  of 
this  now  behind  them  forever.  One  thing  she 
always  saw  with  shining  eyes,  —  a  tiny  cross  over 
scores  of  these  old  names.  That  stood  for  the  time, 
care,  skill,  and  knowledge,  for  which  he  expected  no 
return  in  earthly  coin.  Each  word  meant  to  Hester, 
as  she  stood  slowly  picking  them  out,  that  on  the 
year  and  day  when  the  old  man's  feet  crossed  such 
and  such  a  threshold  was  a  time  that  the  voice  no 
more  heard  cheered  some  sufferer  who  also  had  since 
ceased  suffering.  Yes,  this  was  Hester's  inherit- 
ance, —  the  record  of  fifty  years  of  work  for  and  lov- 
ing-kindness to  men,  women,  and  little  children. 
When  she  pushed  the  day-books  back,  and  locked 
the  desk,  she  had  lost  the  thought  of  poverty.  She 
looked  as  if  she  might  have  been  reading  a  psalm. 

Surprised  to  find  the  hour  so  late,  Hester  was 
going  immediately  to  her  own  room,  when  there 
came  a  hurried  rap  on  the  office-door,  and  a  voice  she 
knew  to  be  Molly  Howells's  said,  "  Open  the  door, 
please,  Hester.  We  saw  a  light  here,  and  your 
shadow  on  the  curtain.  Mother  sent  me  to  see  if 
you  could  come  over  and  help  us." 


A    WATCH  IN  THE  NIGHT.  225 

•'What  is  the  matter?"  asked  Hester,  opening  it 
quickly  to  find  Molly  alone. 

"  Oh !  grandmother  has  been  sick  for  a  good  while, 
you  know,  —  feverish,  out  of  her  mind  a  little,  and 
sleepless.  The  doctor  came  about  dark,  said  she 
did  not  need  any  change  of  medicine,  and  asked  us 
not  to  send  for  him  before  to-morrow,  unless  it  was 
very  necessary.  We  do  not  think  she  is  worse  ;  but 
we  cannot  quiet  her,  and  mother  is  all  worn  out. 
To-night  she  declares  that  the  Devil,  a  dog,  and  an 
Episcopal  minister,  are  in  the  room,  "and  we  are  cruel 
that  we  will  not  put  them  out.  The  doctor  left 
something  to  soothe  her ;  but  mother  is  not  sure 
about  his  directions,  and  dare  not  give  her  much  of 
it.  You  are  as  good  as  a  doctor,  Hester,  and  mother 
would  be  so  glad  to  have  you  come  in  a  little  while ! " 

Hester  caught  up  an  "afghan"  from  the  sofa, 
gave  a  low  whistle  that  brought  the  great  dog  Lion, 
and  followed  Molly  out  into  the  clear  starlight. 
Very  little  has  been  said  of  the  domestic  life  of  these 
neighbors,  for  the  reason  that  they  have  little  to  do 
with  the  story.  Here  let  it  be  mentioned  that  Mrs. 
Howells's  mother  had  long  been  a  member  of  the 
family.  Of  late  she  had  been  constantly  ill,  as  Hes- 
ter knew  before  Molly  told  her :  she  was  therefore 
not  surprised  to  be  called  in  at  this  time.  She  fol- 
lowed Molly  into  the  house  to  a  pleasant  room  fur- 


226  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

nished  with  the  old  lady's  possessions,  dearer  to  her 
than  the  modern  elegancies  of  the  rest  of  the  house. 
In  one  corner  was  a  big  bed,  and,  propped  up  in  it, 
a  little  white  grandmother,  with  restless  black  eyes, 
and  withered  little  hands  that  fluttered  frantically  as 
she  chattered,  reproaching  poor  Mrs.  Howells,  who 
was  at  her  wits'  ends.  With  the  best  intentions, 
she  had  followed  the  worst  course  possible,  and 
argued  half  the  night  to  prove  to  the  old  lady  that 
there  was  no  dog,  no  Devil,  no  minister  of  any  church 
whatever,  there.  She  assured  Hester  that  she  felt 
half  crazy  herself. 

"Well,  now  let  me  try  my  hand.  Where  is  the 
medicine  you  dare  not  give  ? " 

"  Here  it  is.  He  said  it  was  a  powerful  opiate,  or 
anodyne,  or  something  of  that  sort,"  answered  Mrs. 
Howells  nervously.  "  I  meant  to  remember,  but  I 
can't  for  the  life  of  me." 

Hester  calmly  smelt  and  tasted  it,  regarding  Mrs. 
Howells  over  the  teaspoon.  She  was  so  grotesque, 
in  a  toilet  for  once  nondescript,  —  her  front  hair  in 
crimping-pins,  her  back  hair  missing. 

"Chloral,"  said  Hester.     "I  can  give  it  to  her." 

"  Well,  do.  She  won't  take  a  thing  from  me  now  ; 
for  I  have  tried  her  with  every  thing  else  I  could 
think  of  that  could  not  hurt  her,  or  that  might  help 
her.  She  threw  the  last  on  the  floor.  —  Peppermint, 


A    WATCH  IN  THE  NIGHT.  227 

wasn't  it,  Molly  ?  —  Poor  mother!  she  is  not  like  her 
self  nowadays." 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Hester.  "  Leave  her  to  me 
now  a  while." 

She  lowered  a  window  to  cool  the  overheated 
room,  then  went  to  the  bed  with  a  hearty,  "  Nothing 
is  going  right,  is  it,  grandmother  ?•" 

"  No,  it  is  not.  Tell  me  I  don't  know  a  dog  when 
I  can  see  it!"  whimpered  the  poor  old  lady;  "and 
a  minister,  and  the  Devil  in  pink  breeches,  with  a 
cardinal  frock-coat  and  two  rows  of  horn  buttons. 
I  do,  now  !  " 

"  Certainly  you  do.  If  you  have  seen  them,  you 
know  it,  and  they  shall  go  out.  Sit  up  a  little 
straighter,  and  tell  me  where  they  are.  Let  us  take 
the  dog  first." 

At  Hester's  inspiring  sympathy  the  old  lady  raised 
herself  on  her  elbow,  like  a  child  who  triumphs  at 
last.  Hester,  standing  before  the  door,  softly  turned 
the  knob,  and  forthwith,  as  she  had  provided  for, 
there  was  a  dog  in  the  room  of  the  biggest,  blackest 
sort.  She  let  him  approach  the  bed,  let  grandma 
cry,  "  See  him  now !  see  him  !  "  then,  with  apparent 
ado,  he  was  ejected,  and  the  old  lady  clung  to  Hester 
in  a  rapture  of  gratitude.  In  a  minute,  however, 
she  remembered  the  other  intruders. 

"  If  the  Devil  is  here,"  said  Hester,  like  one  who 


228  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

submits  her  judgment  to  another's,  yet  suggests  a 
plan  that  may  be  feasible,  "don't  you  think  we 
had  better  confine  him  ?  If  we  turn  him  loose  in  the 
neighborhood,  what  work  he  may  make  before  morn- 
ing !  Shut  into  the  coal-scuttle  now,  with  the  shovel 
on  top  of  him,  he  might  stop  his  capers ;  or,  so  far 
as  I  am  concerned/ 1  would  put  him  in  the  coal-stove 
itself.  He  is  used  to  the  temperature,  and  might 
stay  there  contentedly." 

"If  the  ising-glass  windows  are  tight,  pop  him 
right  in,"  cried  the  invalid,  with  a  little  giggle  of 
pleasure  delightful  to  hear  after  her  fretting.  With 
due  alacrity,  Hester  skirmished  about  the  place,  and 
returned  to  declare  positively  there  was  no  stranger 
in  the  room  unless  it  was  the  minister. 

"  Yes,  yes !  He  is  over  there,  with  his  surplice 
on  hindside  before,  and  a  prayer-book  in  each  hand." 

"  Indeed  !  "  murmured  Hester.  "  Well,  it  is  a  cold 
night  to  turn  him  out  of  doors.  Are  you  a  Chris- 
tian, grandmother  ? " 

"Of  course  !  "  answered  the  old  lady  with  comical 
dignity  ;  "  a  member  of  the  Dutch  Reformed  Church 
for  forty  years." 

"Then  I  would  just  let  him  read  prayers  down  in 
the  parlor,  —  prayers  for  the  sick,  you  know.  You 
don't  feel  well  yet.  Let  me  straighten  you  out  on 
the  pillows.  There,  how  cool  and  sweet  the  air  is 
here  now ! " 


A    WATCH  IN  THE  NIGHT.  229 

The  old  lady  fell  back  in  the  pillows,  pleased  at 
the  masterful,  cheery  tones.  Hester  brought  the 
medicine,  and  in  a  moment  of  soothing  talk,  without 
a  question  or  request,  put  it  to  her  lips,  and  had  it 
down  as  a  thing  of  no  account. 

Mrs.  Howells  hovered  about,  out  of  sight,  and  in 
less  than  a  half-hour  the  poor  grandmother  was 
quietly  sleeping.  Then  Mrs.  Howells,  at  Hester's 
orders,  went  to  get  a  little  rest  herself.  Molly  in- 
sisted on  staying  with  Hester.  One  took  possession 
of  the  sofa,  the  other  dozed  in  a  great  easy-chair. 

"Who  taught  you  so  much  about  nursing  and 
medicine?"  asked  Molly.  "Or,  rather,  how  came 
you  to  learn  so  much  ?  Of  course,  your  uncle  taught 
you." 

"Yes.  He  did  not  undertake  to  do  it  systemati- 
cally ;  but  when  he  found  I  listened  to  all  he  said 
about  his  patients,  and  asked  questions,  he  gave  me 
books  to  read,  —  the  first,  a  little  work  on  physiology, 
when  I  was  only  eight  years  old.  There  was  never 
a  day  in  which  I  did  not  learn  something  almost 
without  design." 

"  Do  you  always  know  what  to  do  ? " 

"  I  always  know  if  I  understand  a  simple  ailment, 
and  can  tell  what  will  help  a  person ;  or  I  know  that 
I  do  not  understand  the  disease,  or  complication  of 
diseases,  and  must  do  nothing  in  ignorance.  I  have 


230  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

the  greatest  desire  to  know  when  I  do  not  know,  — 
to  have  the  study  and  experience  that  would  give  me 
insight.  I  could  get  it  much  easier  than  it  comes  to 
some  persons.  Uncle  Jack  used  to  say  I  could 
enter  a  medical  college  in  advance  of  any  beginner." 

"  Why  don't  you  ?  Why  not  study  medicine,  and 
take  your  uncle's  practice  ? " 

Getting  no  answer,  Molly  thought  her  companion 
sleepy,  and  fell  asleep  herself.  The  old  lady  in  the 
bed  slumbered  peacefully  as  a  baby.  The  wind 
arose,  and  blew  about  the  house,  and  up  and  down 
the  chimney,  the  fire  burning  as  fiercely  as  if  the 
demon  were  really  stirring  it  up  within  ;  but  Hester 
Prescott,  wide  awake,  sat  and  seemed  to  watch  the 
shadow  of  grandmother's  night-cap  on  the  wall. 

"  Why  do  you  not  study  medicine,  and  take  your 
uncle's  practice  ? " 

It  was  strange  that  nobody  before  had  ever  put 
the  question.  Over  and  over  again  she  had  been 
told  that  she  should  have  been  a  man,  then  she  would 
have  made  just  as  good  a  doctor  as  her  uncle. 

To-night,  as  she  sat  there  in  the  sick-room,  all  the 
thoughts  of  the  evening  thronged  back  upon  her; 
then  she  saw  her  future,  by  imagination,  in  a  quite 
new  light  for  the  moment ;  saw  herself  as  she 
"  might  be,"  —  a  power  in  the  world,  not  spending  her 
days  trying  to  make  the  pretty,  incomplete  efforts  of 


A    WATCH  IN  THE  NIGHT.  231 

one  mere  accomplishment  stand  her  in  stead  of  a 
simple,  grand  work  that  would  bring  into  action  all 
the  forces  of  her  nature.  The  question  was  not  for 
her  vaguely  put,  "  Will  you  try  and  become  what 
perhaps  a  woman  maybe?"  it  was  just  this,  "WiF 
you  become  what  you  know  that  you  can  be?" 

Indeed,  it  was  not  so  much  a  question  as  a  call 
coming  to  her  in  the  fulness  of  time. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

"  What  is  decreed  must  be,  and  be  this  so" 

SHAKSPEARE. 

A  FEW  days  after  the  night  which  Hester  spent 
at  the  Howells's,  she  called  Marion  into  her 
painting-room,  and  the  two  were  a  long  time  in  con- 
versation. At  last  Marion  came  out,  and  went  in 
search  of  Dorothy,  whom  she  found  sewing  alone  in 
the  warm  and  sunny  dining-room.  She  was  singing 
to  herself  in  a  hilarious  way  that  she  had  when  it 
was  likely  that  her  spirits  were  not  at  all  in  accord- 
ance with  her  high  notes.  But  it  was  as  easy  to  sing 
glees  as  dirges  ;  and  the  effect  was  happier  upon 
other  people. 

"What  do  you  think  now?"  asked  Marion,  dis- 
lodging the  sleek  old  cat  from  a  chair,  and  taking  it 
herself.  "  Hester  is  going  to  take  up  the  kaleido- 
scope of  our  family  affairs,  and  give  it  a  great  shake. 
She  has  amazed  me  with  a  new  set  of  ideas.  What 
do  you  think  she  is  going  to  do  ?  " 
232 


WHAT  IS  DECREED  MUST  BE: 


233 


"  Paint  a  panorama,  perhaps,  and  wants  you  to 
write  a  lecture  to  go  with  it,"  suggested  Dorothy. 

"  She  says  that  she  thinks  it  is  very  likely  she  will 
never  paint  any  more  after  this  year." 

Dorothy  dropped  her  work,  a  thought  flashing 
across  her  mind.  "  She  is  not  —  Mr.  —  Well,  what 
is  it?" 

"  She  says  she  is  going  to  study  medicine." 

"  She  always  has  done  it.  She  knows  now  more 
than  she  has  any  occasion  to  use." 

"  But  she  is  going  to  practise  —  going  to  be  a  doc- 
tor—  goyig  to  take  uncle  Jack's  practice." 

"  Nonsense  !  "  cried  Dorothy,  rapidly  changing  base 
in  view  of  this  information.  "  She  going  to  start  off 
on  the  little  she  knows  !  Why,  a  doctor  must  have 
attended  college,  lectures,  studied  anatomy,  dissected, 
had  hospital  clinics,  graduated,  before  having  a 
diploma  even.  She  will  make  a  fool  of  herself. 
The  regular  profession  would  laugh  her  to  scorn  ; 
and  I  should  think  uncle  Jack's  opinion  of  quacks 
would  hinder  her  from  making  us  all  ridiculous." 

"  Don't  you  suppose  she  knows  all  that,  Dorothy  ? 
She  would  never  begin  practising  until  she  was 
thoroughly  prepared.  She  says,  however,  she  believes 
that  she  could  enter  on  the  second  year  "  — 

"  Enter  ?  "  echoed  Dorothy.  "  Where,  and  how  ? 
There  are  no  colleges  near  here." 


234  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

"  But  there  are  in  the  city.  I  thought,  as  you  do, 
that  Hester  was  wild,  when  she  began  to  tell  me. 
But  let  me  show  you  what  she  means.  You  know, 
without  any  telling,  what  a  passion  she  has  for  such 
things,  and  that,  if  she  were  a  man,  everybody  would 
say  she  was  made  for  a  doctor.  Now,  here  is  a  medi- 
cal library,  office,  instruments,  the  good-will  of  all 
uncle  Jack's  old  patients,  who  know  and  believe  in 
her.  It  would  be  quite  different  if  she  were  a  vis- 
ionary girl,  starting  up  to  enter  on  a  career  of  which 
she  knew  nothing,  and  where  she  must  struggle  for 
any  vantage-ground." 

"  But  the  time  for  preparation,  and  the  expense, 
Marion,"  said  Dorothy  impatiently.  "  She  cannot 
fit  herself  here." 

"  She  knows  that." 

"  Then,  what  is  she  thinking  of  ? " 

"  I  will  tell  you,  if  you  will  give  me  a  chance.  She 
says  she  will  first  write  to  uncle  Jack's  old  friend,  Dr. 
Willard,  state  her  case  in  detail,  and  ask 'his  advice. 
He  can  tell  her  of  the  best  colleges  to  which  women 
are  admitted,  and  also,  if  one  should  apply  for  ad- 
mission who  was  well  advanced  in  preliminary  studies, 
if  she  could  get  on  and  out  sooner.  All  about  fees 
and  expenses,  too,  she  must  know,  of  course." 

"  And  when  she  finds  out,"  put  in  the  irrepressi- 
ble Dorothy,  "  how  is  she  better  off  ?  She  has  not 


"  WHA  T  IS  DECREED  MUST  BE."  235 

money  enough  for  them.  If  she  had,  meanwhile 
what  will  she  eat  and  drink,  and  wherewithal  be 
clothed,  in  a  strange  city  ?  " 

"  Well,"  returned  Marion,  a  little  chilled  by  these 
matter-of-fact  questions  which  Hester  had  touched, 
it  is  true,  but  merely  as  subordinate  issues  (with  her 
the  one  question  had  been,  Shall  I  do  it  ?  not  How 
can  I  ?)  "  she  says  she  should  enter  a  medical  col- 
lege next  fall.  She  could  then  have  this  year  pre- 
vious to  that  time  for  earning  the  money ;  and  she 
could  do  it,  she  thinks.  She  would  study  evenings, 
but  paint  in  the  daytime  more  constantly  than  ever ; 
perhaps  take  a^ew  pupils  in  drawing.  When  the 
time  comes,  she  would  make  an  arrangement  with 
aunt  Pepperfield  to  remain  with  her  during  the  time 
necessary  for  her  college  course.  You  know  how 
she  is  always  begging  her  to  come  there,  and  study 
art,  because  they  are  so  near  the  city.  She  could  go 
in  and  out  every  day.  As  for  us,  we  must  be  more 
economical  than  we  have  been." 

"Try  it,"  said  Dorothy  dr}ly. 

"  I  know.  But  the  thing  that  ought  to  be  done  is 
always  the  thing  that  can  be  done.  We  might  take 
a  few  summer-boarders  when  summer  comes,  —  the 
house  is  large  enough,  —  nice,  quiet  people.  I  would 
make  any  sacrifice  ;  for  I  believe,  if  Hester  had  a 
medical  education,  she  would  be  very  successful.  You 
know  that,  Dorothy,  as  well  as  I  do,  don't  you  ? " 


236  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS, 

"Yes.  If  ever  anybody  was  born  to  be  a  nurse 
and  a  doctor,  Hester  was  ;  but  I  cannot  endure 
women-doctors  !  Can  you,  Marion  ?  I  never  had  a 
bit  of  faith  in  them,  had  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  Marion  scornfully.  Then  in  a 
moment  each  laughed  at  her  own  inconsistency. 

"  However,"  added  Marion,  "  we  know  that  Hester 
has  now  more  knowledge  and  more  skill,  and  quicker 
intuitions,  than  many  newly-fledged  doctors  ready  to 
kill  or  cure.  She  has  a  lifetime  of  study  with  a 
practising  physician  to  match  against  their  new  ex- 
perience of  half-hours  in  hospitals.  If  we  know  that 
now,  we  will  surely  have  faith  in  her  when  she  has 
the  fullest  study  required  of  them.  Again  :  she  is 
a  true  lady,  if  an  odd  one.  I  would  like  to  see  the 
person  who  would  doubt  that,  even  if  she  were  a 
doctor." 

"  What  will  Granty  say  ?  There  never  was  one 
among  those  Boston  persons  related  to  her  who 
adorned  her  name  with  M.D.  Granty  may  not  think 
it  proper." 

"  We  must  convert  her,  or  else  approach  her  with 
tact,"  returned  Marion.  "  If  some  one  like  Mr.  Sev- 
ern should  advocate  the  plan  of  having  women  study 
medicine,  some  women,  at  least,  do  it  in  a  general 
way,  let  her  think  of  it  as  something  laudable,  often 
desirable,  and  "  — 


"  WHAT  IS  DECREED  MUST  BE."  237 

"  But  gentlemen  seldom  like  the  idea.  Mr.  Severn 
may  be  greatly  opposed  to  it." 

Marion  had  not  thought  of  this.  A  shadow  fell  on 
her  face,  and  she  murmured,  — 

"  Yes.  It  might  be  eminently  genteel  for  us  to 
live  along,  Hester  dabbling  in  colors,  never  able 
even  to  do  the  art  work  she  might  at  her  best,  and 
at  the  most  earning  not  much.  But  it  seems  to  me 
that  for  her  to  enter  a  profession  where  she  can  be 
a  helper  in  the  world  and  at  the  same  time  can  earn 
an  ample  support,  —  that  seems  far  better  than  semi- 
helpless  gentility.  You  know  that  a  woman  as  a 
physician  gets  the  same  fees  a  man  does.  With  a 
proper  collection  of  bills,  Hester  can  be  what  uncle 
Jack  might  have  been,  but  never  was,  rich." 

"  She  will  be  just  what  he  was,  —  just  precisely  as 
easy-going,"  said  Dorothy.  "  But  even  so  there  would 
always  be  enough,  and  plenty  to  spare.  Yes.  I  won- 
der what  Mr.  Severn  will  say.  I  have  fancied  he 
liked  her  particularly  well.  If  she  studies  medicine, 
I  suppose  she  will  never  marry.  She  could  not.  Her 
time  would  be  no  longer  her  own  ;  and  no  man  would 
want  a  woman  of  whom  that  was  true.  But  then 
Hester  would  not  have  made  a  good  wife  for  a  minis- 
ter anyway." 

"  Yes,"  said  Marion,  "  she  said  so ;  or  she  said, 
rather,  it  was  as  unnecessary  to  say  it  as  for  the  man 


238  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

to  say  he  would  not  live  always  when  nobody  had 
asked  him  to.  Mr.  Severn  has  not  talked  much  with 
her  lately." 

"  Suppose  you  sound  him  yourself,  and  see  if  he 
would  be  a  good  one  to  deal  with  Granty.  When  a 
thing  has  two  handles,  much  depends  upon  the  one 
she  takes  hold  of  first." 

"  Very  well,  I  will." 

The  conversation  was  interrupted  by  Granty,  who 
entered,  panting  from  some  unusual  exertion,  and  sat 
down  to  recover  breath." 

"  Oh,  dear  !  "  she  exclaimed  speedily.  "  I  do  wish 
you  would  write  a  book,  Marion,  all  about  boys,  — 
trying  little  hired  boys  like  Pete.  There  he  drove 
that  poor  horse  to  Barnegat,  last  week,  without  any 
shoe  on  one  foot :  now  he  has  a  big  corn,  or  something 
like  it,  in  consequence,  and  Hester  is  in  the  barn 
soaking  it  in  a  pail  of  hot  water." 

"  Which  one  has  the  corn  and  the  hot  water  ?  — 
Pete,  or  the  horse  ?  "  asked  Dorothy. 

"  Why,  Old  Mortality ;  and  his  hair  is.  all  rubbed 
the  wrong  way,  and  looks  rough  as  an  old  buffalo- 
skin.  It  makes  me  feel  sorry  to  see  him  so  neg- 
lected—  and  he  is  very  unreliable.  If  I  send  him 
to  Wilkins's  for  oysters,  where  they  keep  the  best, 
he  goes  to  Jones's,  because  it  is  nearer,  and  gets  those 
that  smell  fishy.  He  is  saucy  to  Bridget,  and  then 


"  WHAT  IS  DECREED  MUST  BE."  239 

gets  ugly  because  she  loses  patience,  and  calls  him 
'  A  dirty  black  African  race,'  as  if  there  were  ever  so 
many  of  him.  I'm  sure  one  is  enough.  There!  I 
forgot  to  tell  Hester  his  last  dreadful  caper,  —  his 
and  Jack's  together.  I  should  admire  to  know  what 
she  will  think  of  it." 

"What  was  it,  Granty?"  asked  Marion,  helping 
the  old  lady  extricate  herself  from  a  voluminous 
white  cloud  wrapped  over  her  head  and  shoulders. 

"  Well,  they  wanted  to  make  a  fountain,  and  have 
the  spray  look  like  that  at  Niagara.  So  what  did  they 
do  but  go  into  the  office,  and  search  until  they  found 
a  stomach-pump,  and  cut  it  up,  and  got  ever  so  many 
rubber  tubes  they  found  there,  to  tie  together  some 
way  ?  Yes,  and  a  big  syringe  besides.  They  put  a 
tub  of  water  on  top  of  the  cow's  shed,  run  their  tubes 
down  and  up,  and  made  an  arrangement  that  drew 
every  boy  in  the  neighborhood  to  watch  it  all  the 
afternoon.  It  filled  the  back-yard  with  slippery  pools, 
before  Bridget  discovered  them.  She  knew  I  was 
not  very  well,  so  she  did  not  tell  me  until  to-day. 
Sometimes,  girls,  I  think  I  cannot  endure  such 
things.  I  am  not  what  I  once  was."  And  the  dear 
old  lady  sighed,  as  if  the  time  had  been  when  she 
could  see  stomach-pumps  destroyed  with  equanimity. 
"  I  wish  you  would  punish  Jack,"  she  added :  "  he 
richly  deserves  it." 


240  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

"I  will,  whenever  you  say  do  it,"  said  Marion 
cheerfully.  If  ever  Jack  was  punished,  it  was  when 
Granty  did  not  know  it;  for  his  first  squeal  called 
forth  from  her  unconditional  pardon,  if  not  a  present. 
Nevertheless,  she  daily  threatened  him  with  the 
terrors  of  the  law  in  a  way  that  seemed  to  her  very 
effective. 

"  Hester  will  take  her  death  of  cold  in  that  barn. 
I  wish  she  would  come  in,  and  let  the  old  horse 
alone !  She  is  just  like  her  uncle." 

"  Yes,  Granty.  Don't  you  think,  if  Hester  had 
been  a  man,  she  would  have  been  a  doctor  ? "  asked 
Marion. 

"  I  have  not  the  least  doubt  of  it.  She  is  better 
fitted  for  that  than  for  any  thing  else  in  the  world," 
said  the  old  lady  emphatically.  "  Now,  Dorothy,  be 
kind  enough  to  hand  me  my  glasses  and  the  Bible, 
and  a  teaspoonful  of  Jamaica  ginger.  I  am  chilled 
through.  I  stopped  a  while  to  see  if  the  cow  was 
protected." 

Marion  reported  to  Hester  Dorothy's  suggestion 
that  Granty  be  approached  by  some  one  outside  the 
family,  and  that  with  unusual  tact. 

"By  Mr.  Severn,"  said  Marion,  "in  case  he  ap- 
proves of  the  course  you  have  resolved  to  take.  I 
wonder  if  he  will,  and  what  men  like  Mr.  Craig  will 
say." 


"WHAT  IS  DECREED  MUST  BE."  241 

"  What  any  one  thinks  outside  of  our  own  family 
is  not  to  come  into  consideration,"  said  Hester 
frigidly,  "Dr.  Willard's  opinion  alone  excepted.  But 
I  do  not  want  Granty  to  see  it  in  any  unpleasant 
light.  I  trust  you  to  prevent  that." 

Had  Marion  not  agreed  to  talk  with  Mr.  Severn, 
she  would  have  left  it  to  Dorothy ;  but  when,  later 
in  the  day,  he  came  for  a  book  to  the  library,  and 
found  her  alone,  she  mentally  resolved  to  have  it  over 
with.  It  was  a  delightful  peculiarity  of  Marion's, 
that,  when  she  had  any  thing  to  say,  she  said  it  with- 
out long  preludes ;  not  at  all  with  ungraceful  abrupt- 
ness, but  clearly  and  exhaustively.  To-day,  when 
Mr.  Severn,  after  talking  a  while,  might  have  gone 
away,  she  drew  out  the  easiest  chair  for  him,  saying, 
"  Wait  a  little  longer  :  I  want  to  tell  you  something 
surprising." 

She  began  by  talking,  more  fully  than  ever  before, 
of  her  uncle  Jack,  of  Hester's  training,  tastes,  and 
peculiarities.  She  touched  on  their  present  circum- 
stances lightly,  but  doing  it  without  false  pride,  that 
he  might  see  all  the  reasons  why  a  lucrative  profes- 
sion would  be  better  than  any  uncertain  means  of 
support-  She  finally  told  him  Hester's  plan,  and 
asked  him  frankly  for  his  opinion.  He  had  listened, 
with  his  face  shaded  by  his  hand,  hearing  her  through 
without  an  interruption.  When  he  spoke,  his  friendly 


242  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

tones  assured  her  that  his  answer  would  not  be  a 
shallow  or  a  prejudiced  one. 

"  I  am  so  glad,"  he  said,  "  that  you  did  not  begin 
by  putting  me  through  a  catechism  on  the  '  woman 
question'  in  the  abstract.  If  you  are  a  so-calied 
advanced  thinker,  you  might  be  angry  at  my  con- 
servatism. If  you  hold  too  narrow  opinions  of  what 
a  woman  can  and  may  do,  you  would  find  me  a  radi- 
cal, perhaps.  The  fact  is,  I  have  never  thought  my- 
self wise  enough  to  settle  the  affairs  of  all  women, 
and  should,  in  most  cases,  be  puzzled  to  tell  even  one 
woman  what  Providence  intended  she  should  do  with 
herself.  If  a  young  lady  in  my  particular  parish 
should  appear  to  me  some  day,  asking  my  opinion 
on  her  studying  medicine,  she  would  not  get  it.  I 
should  give  her  a  few  general  principles  of  thought, 
and  let  her  decisions  severely  alone.  You  certainly 
surprise  me  with  this  sudden  resolution  which  your 
sister  has  taken  ;  but  the  plan  itself  is  not  so  surpris- 
ing. It  is  perfectly  natural  that  it  should  have  been 
suggested  to  her.  I  have  known  her  only  a  few 
months ;  but  I  can  see  that  she  is  admirably  fitted 
for  the  life  she  thinks  of  undertaking.  She  would 
put  all  heart,  interest,  and  enthusiasm  into  it.  She 
is  sensitive,  but  not  at  all  nervous ;  has  physical 
courage  and  perfect  health,  knowledge  of  human 
nature;  and  she  knows  when  to  talk  and  when  to 


•«  WHA  T  IS  DECREED  MUST  BE."  243 

keep  still.  Every  thing  else  is  in  her  favor.  In 
many  respects  she  would  stand,  at  the  outset,  on  a 
plane  only  attained  by  another  after  many  efforts.  I 
am  persuaded  it  is  well  that  some  women  should  be 
physicians.  I  am  quite  sure  your  sister  would  make 
a  good  one,  —  one  of  the  best.  Now,  you  cannot 
accuse  me  of  giving  you  an  ambiguous  answer." 

"  I  am  thankful  for  it,"  said  Marion.  "  Not  that 
Hester  distrusts  her  own  judgment,  or  that  any 
one's  likes  or  dislikes  would  have  much  weight  after 
she  had  Dr.  Willard's  professional  opinion  and  the 
approval  of  the  family ;  but  I  wanted  to  know  if  it 
seemed  as  feasible  a  plan  to  you  as  it  did  to  us. 
And  then,"  laughed  Marion,  hesitating  a  little,  "  I 
wanted  to  use  you  as  a  sort  of  herald  to  prepare 
Granty.  We  want  to  lay  the  matter  before  her  most 
successfully.  Could  you  not  turn  the  conversation 
in  this  direction  some  time,  and  prepare  her  to  see 
the  plan  in  a  favorable  light,  if  we  tell  her  later  what 
Hester  wants  to  do  ?  Granty  is  afraid  of  us  some- 
times. She  thinks  that  uncle  Jack  gave  us  such 
liberty  of  thought  that  we  are  capable  of  erratic 
action.  She  cannot  see  we  are  none  of  us  so  young 
as  to  be  suspected  of  giddiness  and  immaturity. 
She  could  scarcely  be  more  exercised  over  a  house 
full  of  young  girls." 

The  utter  absence  of  affectation  in  Marion's  words 


244  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

would  have  made  a  compliment  to  their  apparent 
youthfulness  silly  ;  and  the  minister  was  the  last  man 
to  be  seizing  little  hooks  whereon  to  hang  flattering 
speeches.  Nevertheless,  he  thought  to  himself  that 
Miss  Marion  was  much  too  young  to  talk  in  the 
calmly  comical  way  she  did,  as  if  they  were  a  house- 
hold of  quite  ancient  maidens.  In  society  they  were 
all  known  as  young  ladies.  Mr.  Severn  had  fallen 
into  this  line  of  thought,  forgetting  the  request  just 
proffered,  until  Marion's  expectant  face  recalled  it  to 
his  mind,  and  he  promised  to  do  his  best  that  very 
evening.  Mr.  Severn  and  Granty  were  excellent 
friends.  She  had,  from  her  early  years,  been  a  con- 
stant reader  of  the  best  books ;  and  what  she  read 
she  did  assuredly  inwardly  digest.  At  first  it  was  a 
mystery  to  him  how  a  nervous  little  body  who  talked 
so  irrelevantly  of  the  horse,  the  dog,  and  the  family, 
could,  five  minutes  later,  give  him  in  forcible  lan- 
guage her  own  thoughtful  review  of  some  new  book, 
the  title  of  which  he  would  scarcely  have  expected 
her  to  know.  After  a  while,  it  was  a  common  thing 
for  him  to  come  where  she  sat  knitting,  drop  into  a 
chair,  and  read  her  a  page  of  a  book,  or  a  bit  of  his 
sermon  perhaps,  waiting  to  hear  her  terse  comments. 
He  told  her  his  congregation  owed  to  her  some  of  the 
best  points  in  his  discourses. 

On  the  evening  of  this  day  that   Marion   talked 


"WHAT  IS  DECREED  MUST  BE."  245 

with  him,  he  sought  the  old  lady's  company,  and 
found  her  with  Dorothy  in  the  parlor.  It  was  always 
easy  to  turn  the  conversation  to  uncle  Jack:  so, 
before  long,  Granty  was  telling  of  his  early  practice, 
of  days  when  he  rode  thirty  miles  on  horseback, 
carrying  his  saddle-bags.  Mr.  Severn  drew  her  on 
into  a  most  social  mood  before  he  said,  — 

"  It  seems  something  to  regret  that  he  left  no  son 
or  nephew  old  enough  to  take  his  practice  here  in 
Merriton." 

"  Yes,  indeed !  If  Hester,  now,  had  only  been  a 
man  !  She  is  like  her  uncle,  with  a  little  more  push 
and  spirit  perhaps,"  said  Granty,  "but  enough  like  him 
to  make  the  same  sort  of  a  doctor." 

"  Hester  had  better  study  medicine,"  suggested 
Mr.  Severn  blandly. 

"  What !  and  go  about  on  horseback  with  saddle- 
bags ? "  ejaculated  Granty,  as  if  there  were  no  other 
way  to  enter  on  the  career  than  this,  the  most  primi- 
tive. 

Mr.  Severn  smiled  as  at  a  jest,  and  asked  her  what 
she  thought  of  women  as  doctors.  She  had  thought 
nothing  about  them,  but  an  hour  later  she  had 
quite  decided  opinions.  She  had  agreed  with  Mr. 
Severn,  that,  in  this  progressive  age,  what  any 
woman  could  do  well  it  was  to  be  expected  that  she 
would  do,  even  if  it  were  to  set  broken  bones,  and 


246  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

administer  drugs.  However,  when  Hester's  plat 
was  laid  before  her,  she  treated  it  as  child's  play,  and 
continued  so  to  do  until  they  received  a  letter  from 
old  Dr.  Willard,  in  which  the  thing  was  practically 
discussed  and  highly  recommended.  Then  they  ex- 
pected from  her  decided  opposition.  What  she  did 
was  to  spend  one  whole  day  in  reflection  before  she 
spoke  after  this  fashion  :  "  If  you  do  it  at  all,  do  it 
thoroughly,  surgery  and  all ;  then  you  will  have  two 
diplomas,  one  of  them  in  Latin.  Your  uncle  had. 
Don't  get  any  '  isms '  or  hobbies,  or  new-fangled 
'  pathies.'  Promise  me  one  thing,  Hester,  upon  your 
word  and  honor  !  —  that  you  never  will  wear  '  bloom- 
ers.' I  never,  never  would  give  my  consent  to  that 
while  the  world  stands.  I  put  my  foot  on  the  whole 
project,  unless  you  bind  yourself  here  on  the  spot." 

Hester  gave  the  promise  with  all  due  solemnity  ; 
and  Granty,  taking  up  her  knitting,  continued  in  a 
plaintive  undertone,  "Such  a  thing  was  never  heard 
of  in  New  England  in  my  younger  days !  Still  Old 
Mortality  would  have  regular  exercise.  And  there  is 
the  strong  gig  that  had  a  new  top  just  before  your 
uncle  died  :  she  could  ride  around  the  country  in 
that.  It  would  almost  go  of  its  own  accord,  it  knows 
the  roads  so  well.  I  would  go  right  at  it,  Hester, 
and  not  bother  to  take  any  long  course,  after  all. 
Tell  Dr.  Willard  you  can  study  up  by  yourself.  Let 


»   WHAT  IS  DECREED  MUST  BE."  247 

him  tell  the  college  professors  you  can't  spare  the 
time  for  lectures  very  well ;  but  you  will  go  on  and 
get  your  diploma.  I  don't  believe  they  would  press 
you  to  come  up  to  all  their  requirements. — They 
would,  you  think,  do  you  ? " 

Hester  laughingly  insisted  that   they  would,  and 
explained  in  detail  how  she  meant  to  "  enter  college." 


CHAPTER  XXL 
Cross-Purposes. 

IT  was  the  middle  of  January,  and  had  been  the 
"  greenest "  winter  ever  known  in  Merriton.  Bu* 
now  the  snow  had  been  falling  softly  all  night,  fall  - 
ing  steadily  all  day  for  three  days,  and  wonderful  was 
the  result.  Pete,  Jack,  and  Bridget  O'Flarity,  had, 
unitedly,  to  shovel  a  path  to  the  barn,  where  Old 
Mortality  was  snugly  sheltered.  Mr.  Severn,  when 
he  took  his  walks  abroad,  returned  to  tell  of  mails 
delayed,  and  trains  snowed  up  along  the  railroads. 
Granty  redoubled  her  charities,  and  never  sat  down 
to  enjoy  the  warmth  of  her  own  fireside  without 
planning  to  increase  the  cheer  at  some  dreary  one. 
The  third  day  of  the  storm  the  SHDW  ceased  falling 
for  a  few  hours,  and  the  sun  came  out  over  all  the 
spotless  beauty  of  the  land.  About  noon  Jack 
rushed  through  the  house  to  say  he  had  seen  a  train 
dragged  into  town  by  six  engines,  and  to  tell  mar- 
vellous tales  of  the  passengers'  previous  adventures. 
He  related  it  first  to  Hester,  who  did.not  show  the 
248 


CROSS-PURPOSES.  249 

lively  interest  he  hoped  to  excite  :  so  he  left  her 
alone  in  the  library,  and  went  to  find  Granty,  who 
was  making  mince-pies.  A  half-hour  later  some  one 
entered  the  library ;  but  Hester  did  not  turn,  think- 
ing it  to  be  Mr.  Severn,  who  came  in  and  out  for 
books  without  ceremony. 

At  the  sound  of  another  voice  saying,  "Miss  Hes- 
ter," she  arose,  so  startled  that  the  color  fled  from 
her  face  for  a  second. 

"  Yes.  You  see  me  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Craig.  "  I 
came  down  from  the  north  pole,  like  a  belated  Santa 
Claus,  and  only  hope  Jack  will  be  half  as  glad  to  see 
me." 

Like  a  very  handsome  Santa  Claus  he  looked,  with 
his  glowing  face  and  great  shaggy  coat,  only  a  little 
under  age  for  that  ancient  traveller. 

"  Jack  will,  and  all  Jack's  friends,"  said  Hester, 
extending  her  hand,  and  gaining  color  at  the  pressure 
it  received.  "  From  what  place  did  you  come  ?  "  she 
asked.  "And  was  it  you  who  just  entered  town  with 
six  engines  ? " 

"  It  was,  Miss  Hester.  But  do  not  imagine  it  took 
all  that  steam-power  to  draw  me.  There  was  attrac- 
tion enough  here ;  but  a  great  deal  of  resistance  had 
to  be  overcome.  I  overcame  it,  though,  and  I  wish 
to  take  it  as  a  good  omen.  Do  you  think  I  may  ?  " 

"That  depends,"  said  Hester.     "Yes,  without  a 


250  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

doubt,  if  you,  through  life,  send  six  engines  ahead  of 
you,  every  thing  will  give  way  to  you  —  or  to  them." 

"  You  never  flatter  me  ;  you  never  encourage  me  ; 
you  are  always  relentlessly  truthful,"  he  returned 
laughingly,  as  she  invited  him  to  take  off  the  over- 
coat Miss  O'Flarity  had  given  him  no  chance  to 
remove. 

"  I  started  for  the  West,  Tuesday  morning.  I 
wanted  to  stop  here  and  see  you  ;  but  I  had  no  ex- 
cuse. The  Pepperfields  would  not  take  any  hint  to 
give  me  a  commission,  but  fate  was  more  compas- 
sionate. The  storm  delayed  me  all  along  the  road.  I 
had  to  pass  through  Merriton,  and  I  resolved  to  stop 
over  a  day.  This  same  storm  is  raging  West,  and  I 
should  only  run  farther  into  it,  if  I  went  on.  I  do 
not  want  to  go,  having  such  a  good  excuse  to  come 
and  see  you." 

Hester  again  assured  him  that  they  would  all  be 
glad  to  see  him  (she  took  the  "  you  "  in  its  plural 
sense)  ;  and  then  she  "  feared  he  was  in  a  famishing 
condition."  No :  he  had  taken  a  lunch  of  great  mag- 
nitude immediately  on  arriving  at  the  station,  and  he 
declared  himself  in  a  most  calm  and  contented  state 
of  mind  and  body.  Jack  appearing  just  then  at  the 
door,  after  one  astonished  stare,  rushed  at  the  guest, 
and  gave  him  a  rapturous  hug,  which  was  quite 
ardently  returned.  Mr.  Craig  owed  Jack  severaj 


CROSS-PURPOSES.  251 

good  turns,  and  regarded  him  as  a  friend  at  court. 
Soon  Jack  was  sent  for  Miss  Marion,  who  came  as 
smiling  and  serene  as  if  she  were  not  greatly  aston- 
ished, arid  very  much  confused  in  her  thoughts  as  to 
what  this  visit  might  signify,  if  it  signified  any  thing. 
Hester,  after  Marion  entered,  slipped  out  to  tell 
Granty.  She  went  to  the  kitchen,  where  Bridget  was 
ironing,  and  Granty  at  a  side-table  was  artistically 
manipulating  pie-crust,  of  the  kind  no  Irish  girl  could 
make  ;  or  so  said  Granty. 

Hester  went  up  to  the  table,  and  said,  "  Mr.  Craig, 
the  editor  of  '  The  Phoenix,'  is  in  the  library.  He 
was  on  a  delayed  train,  and  thought  he  would  stop 
over  a  while.  His  baggage  is  at  the  hotel ;  but  we 
must  invite  him  to  dinner,  or  for  longer." 

Granty  stood  with  a  .pie  balanced  on  the  palm  of 
her  left  hand,  and  her  right  expressing  by  gestures 
the  surprise,  that,  .appearing  in  her  countenance, 
quickly  changed  there  to  a  look  of  queer  intelligence. 

"  Humph  !  He  stopped  over !  I  presume  he  never 
had  another  idea  after  he  left  Ingleside.  Well,  it  is 
all  right.  Dorothy  has  ordered  plenty  of  poultry. 
We  shall  have  a  nice  dinner.  Don't  put  too  much 
sage  in  the  dressing,  Bridget :  some  people  do  not 
like  it.  We  are  to  have  company.  Miss  Marion  has 
a  friend  come  unexpectedly, — a  gentleman." 

"  Mucha,  now !  but  I  must  have  a  leetle  fun  wid 


2$ 2  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

her.  Sorry  is  the  chance  I  ever  had  before !  'Tis 
big  and  purty  he  is,  and  a  neat  way  wid  him.  I  let 
him  intil  the  house,  sure!" 

"  Nonsense,  Bridget ! "  said  Granty  with  dignity, 
but  an  amused  glance  at  Hester.  "  Miss  Marion  has 
no  time  for  folly.  She  could  have  been  settled  in 
life  long  ago,  if  she  had  chosen  to  marry." 

"And  who  doubts  it,  thin?  There  is  few  good 
enough  for  her,  and  that's  thrue  !  " 

Hester  was  studying  the  convoluted  crust  on  the 
pie  Granty  had  in  hand.  If  Mr.  Craig  had  come 
especially  to  see  Marion,  perhaps  she  had  best  not 
call  Dorothy  at  once  to  go  and  help  entertain  him. 
She  turned  and  went  out  of  the  kitchen,  meeting 
Dorothy  in  the  next  room.  Of  course  she  was  asked 
whose  voice  it  was  that  sounded  out  from  the  library, 
—  a  voice  as  full  and  deep  as  Mr.  Severn's,  only 
louder. 

Hester  told  her  unenthusiastically. 

"  Is  it  possible  ? "  exclaimed  Dorothy.  "  Did  Marion 
expect  him  ? " 

"No." 

"  It  seems  to  me  he  must  be  rushing  things,  to 
leave  the  city  such  weather  as  this." 

"Yes,  he  is  rushing  things.  He  came  in  with  six 
engines,"  returned  Hester  coolly. 

Both   sisters   stood   a  moment  on  the  rug  in  the 


CROSS-PURPOSES.  253 

hall,  silent,  waiting  for  no  especial  reason.  Hester 
was  taking  another  look  at  her  own  future,  —  a  new 
outlook,  from  a  strictly  personal  and  feminine  stand- 
point. She  was  wondering  if  her  "day-books,"  years 
hence,  would  count  for  a  life  worth  as  much  as  an- 
other kind  of  a  one,  —  one  that  Marion  might  perhaps 
live.  Under  that  thought  was  another  and  a  more 
bewildering. 

Dorothy  was  reflecting,  "I  might  have  known  it 
would  come  to  this  —  with  him.  As  for  Marion,  I  do 
not  know." 

"  I  will  go  in  there,"  she  said  aloud.  "  We  must 
make  him  feel  at  home ;  and  it  is  awkward  for 
Marion  to  be  left  with  him  at  once.  If  we  all  know 
he  came  to  visit  her,  we  must  not  seem  to  see  it 
prematurely." 

"  Of  course  not :  you  go  in.  I  will  be  back  soon. 
I  have  now  to  send  a  letter  to  Dr.  Willard." 

"  Shall  I  tell  Mr.  Craig  that  you  mean  to  study 
medicine  ? " 

"It  makes  no  difference,"  said  Hester  bravely, — 
how  bravely,  neither  of  them  knew. 

Before  long  the  sun  went  under  clouds,  the  snow 
filled  all  the  air  again ;  but  never  did  a  delayed 
traveller  get  himself  into  a  snugger  nook.  Granty 
would  not  hear  of  Mr.  Craig's  returning  to  any  hotel. 
As  her  sister  Huldah's  friend,  she  made  him  welcome 


254  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

with  all  her  own  hospitable  nature.  How  many 
times  that  day  he  recalled  with  secret  amusement 
Marion's  letter,  that  gave  him  his  first  perplexing 
peep  into  this  household !  What  winsome,  cheery 
women  they  all  were!  —  unconventional,  without  pre- 
tensions of  any  sort,  yet  perfectly  at  ease,  and  very 
entertaining.  Their  home  was  also  charming :  the 
house  and  furniture  seemed  slowly  to  have  come 
together,  by  especial  laws  of  fitness.  All  the  books, 
pictures,  quaint  rooms,  and  quainter  furnishing, 
pleased  the  somewhat  fastidious  bachelor  editor. 

At  the  table  he  was  introduced  to  Mr.  Severn ; 
and  each  gentlemar.  appeared  agreeably  impressed 
by  the  other.  Invited  by  Marion,  Mr.  Severn  re- 
turned to  the  library  with  them ;  and  it  was  a  most 
enjoyable  afternoon.  Granty  afterward  declared  she 
had  not  supposed  there  was  half  so  much  fun  and 
fire  in  Mr.  Severn  as  there  proved  to  be  when  he 
was  drawn  into  conversation  with  another  man  his 
equal  in  culture.  Outside,  the  storm  redoubled  its 
fury ;  but  within,  the  fires  glowed  in  the  deep  grates, 
and  Granty,  in  her  best  cap,  beamed  on  the  company 
like  a  benevolent  fairy  godmother.  She  talked  and 
listened,  knit,  and  tapped  her  slipper-toes  on  the  rug; 
while  she  fancied  she  read  the  thoughts  of  each  one 
in  the  circle.  There  was  Mr.  Craig.  What  was 
more  natural  for  a  man  of  his  turn  of  mind  than  thaJ 


CROSS-PURPOSES.  255 

he  should  be  attracted  by  a  woman  of  Marion's  ? 
Only  he  was  mistaken  in  thinking  his  sentiments 
reciprocated.  He  would  find  this  out  without  any 
unpleasant  explanations,  she  hoped.  Marion  could 
manage  that;  then  they  would  be  excellent  friends, 
just  as  before.  Here  was  Mr.  Severn  too,  That 
Hester  interested  him  was  plainly  to  be  seen  by  his 
remarks  the  other  night  and  his  manner  in  general. 
Still,  he  would  acknowledge,  that  for  a  minister  to 
take  a  practising  physician  for  his  wife  would  be  the 
height  of  absurdity.  Dorothy,  now,  would  make 
either  of  these  men  an  excellent  wife.  She  wondered 
if  it  had  occurred  to  Dorothy  herself.  She  resolved 
to  speak  to  her  about  it ;  to  what  end,  precisely,  was 
not  apparent.  So  Granty  pursued  her  innocent 
reflections;  while  the  gentlemen's,  perhaps,  were 
quite  at  cross-purposes.  Who  knows  if  one  of  them 
noted  the  animation  in  Marion's  dark  eyes  when 
excited  by  conversation,  or  if  the  other  wondered 
what  Hester  thought  of,  from  her  seat  between  the 
red  curtains,  when  she  looked  off  over  the  snow- 
covered  fields  ?  It  had  been  Mr.  Craig's  intention  to 
return  to  the  hotel  for  the  night ;  but,  the  storm  con- 
tinuing, Granty  insisted  that  they  would  be  monsters 
of  inhospitality  to  allow  him  to  go  ;  and  he  was  easily 
induced  to  stay.  The  impression  he  produced  in 
the  house  was  a  very  agreeable  one.  Miss  O'Flarity, 


256  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

even,  peering  at  him  through  a  crack  in  the  dining- 
room  door,  confided  to  Pete  her  opinion  that  he  was 
of  as  "fine  a  figure  as  any  new  clothes-pin,"  and 
much  like  to  a  cousin  of  hers  in  Drummonddrusky. 

Jack  strolled  into  the  office  just  before  his  bed- 
time, and  found  that  Mr.  Severn  had  returned  to  his 
sermonizing.  He  told  that  gentleman  of  his  first 
acquaintance  with  Mr.  Craig,  and  how,  in  Ingleside, 
he  used  "  to  come  almost  every  night  to  see  us,  and 
now  he  is  the  one  that  writes  those  letters  to  aunt 
Marion  in  the  awful  big  envelopes.  He  owns  a 
paper,  or  a  magazine,  you  know,  'The  Old  Ghost,'  or 
'Spook,'  or  some  such  queer  name." 

Something  in  Mr.  Severn's  usually  serene  face 
caused  Jack  to  think  he  had  spilled  ink  on  his  paper. 
But  no  :  he  entirely  neglected  his  writing  during  the 
rest  of  Jack's  stay,  which  was  not  long.  If  people 
were  not  inclined  to  be  entertaining,  Jack's  rule  was 
to  let  them  alone.  He  soon  returned  to  the  library, 
where  Mr.  Craig  and  Marion  were  talking  "  shop " 
in  a  very  animated  way.  It  was  very  pleasing  to 
Marion  that  there  was  a  topic,  in  a  measure  imper- 
sonal, on  which  they  could  converse  with  real  interest. 
The  cool  assumption  of  every  one  in  the  house  that 
Mr.  Craig  was  her  guest  seriously  affected  her  tran- 
quillity. It  seemed  to  her  she  must  be  responsible 
for  this  impression,  yet  just  how  she  could  not  see. 


CROSS-PUKPOSES.  257 

It  annoyed  her  so  much,  she  wished  some  one  would 
give  her  a  chance  to  speak  on  the  subject.  Some  one 
did.  Later,  Dorothy  asked  her  if  her  friend  would 
like  a  sleigh-ride  in  the  morning,  if  the  weather  per- 
mitted;  and  Marion  promptly  replied  that  he  was 
aunt  Pepperfield's  friend. 

"  Is  it  possible !  But  he  did  not  expect  to  find 
aunt  Pepperfield  here,  I  take  it." 

Marion  went  on  closing  up  the  house  for  the  night, 
saying  no  more.  Dorothy  left  her  alone ;  but  Mr. 
Severn,  just  then  coming  through  the  room,  saw  her 
about  to  open  a  window  and  close  the  shutters.  He 
stopped  to  do  it  for  her. 

"I  enjoyed  the  afternoon  with  your  friend  exceed- 
ingly," he  said.  "I  have  not  met  a  person  lately 
who  gave  me  so  much  to  think  over.  You  must  find 
his  acquaintance  helpful." 

Marion  attempted  to  say  that  she  did,  and  why, 
but  stammered,  hesitated,  then  blushed  so  prepos- 
terously, that  the  minister  wished  he  had  not  embar- 
rassed her,  wished  he  could  not  read  her  so  easily ; 
most  of  all,  wished  that  he  had  not  discovered,  in  a 
time  that  was  so  inopportune,  how  much  he  himself 
possessed  of  what  Herbert  Spencer  calls  the  "raw 
material  of  human  nature,  —  strong  feelings." 

The  next  morning  the  sky  was  as  blue  as  tur- 
quoise. The  sun  was  dazzling  in  the  splendor  it 


25?  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

shed  over  a  snow-covered  landscape,  every  angle 
rounded  to  spotless  beauty,  every  old  hut  or  barn 
made  pure  enough  for  the  abode  of  fairies,  if  fairies 
ever  flourish  after  snow-storms. 

Before  breakfast,  Jack  informed  Mr.  Craig  that 
Granty  said,  if  the  roads  were  at  all  broken  that  day, 
he  might  enjoy  a  sleigh-ride,  in  which  case  Mr. 
Severn  would  go  with  him.  Mr.  Craig  did  not  seem 
to  hear.  He  asked  Jack  questions  about  the  weather- 
cock on  a  neighbor's  barn ;  but  soon  turning  to 
Hester,  who  had  come  in,  he  said,  "  You  promised 
me  once  a  drive  after  a  famous  trotting-horse,  Old 
Mortality,  if  ever  I  came  to  Merriton.  Now  I  do  not 
insist  that  you  shall  hold  the  reins,  or  even  take  out 
the  trotter.  You  can  keep  your  hands  in  a  muff, 
and  I  will  select  my  own  fast  horse,  if  you  will  take 
the  sleigh-ride  with  me  this  morning.  I  have  not 
broken  through  such  great  drifts  for  years.  Will 
you  go  ? " 

To  say,  "  Why  don't  you  take  Marion  ?  "  was  im- 
possible. She  could  only  say  something  to  the  effect 
that  the  drifts  would  certainly  make  the  sleighing 
very  difficult ;  but,  when  they  were  summoned  to 
breakfast,  Mr.  Craig  spoke  of  it  as  a  thing  to  be. 
After  breakfast,  he  excused  himself  to  go  down  to 
the  station  and  ask  about  trains.  Half  an  hour  later 
he  returned  in  a  gay  little  sleigh  with  gorgeous  robe? 


CROSS-PURPOSES.  259 

and  a  much  finer  horse  than  poor  Old  Mortality. 
The  bells  and  turnout  caused  Jack  to  tumble  up 
erect  from  a  snow-bank  at  the  gate,  and  then  and 
there  administer  a  hint  of  full  forty-pound  power,  — 
a  hint  which  was  heroically  taken,  and  heroically 
given  back  in  this  wise  :  "  Jack,  I  do  not  want  you  : 
there  is  not  room.  I  want  your  aunt  Hester." 

"  I  could  hang  on  behind." 

"You  could,  but  you  will  not." 

While  Mr.  Craig  was  arranging  the  robes  to  suit 
his  mind,  Jack  sped  into  the  house,  and  announced 
the  former's  return.  This  was  not  necessary.  The 
aunts  had  seen  all  from  the  windows. 

"  Get  your  cloak  right  on,  Marion  !  "  cried  Granty. 
"  Of  course  he  prefers  a  lady  to  Mr.  Severn.  I  was 
only  thinking  of  their  both  being  men  when  I  pro- 
posed they  should  take  Old  Mortality." 

This  fathomless  speech  was  overleaped  by  Jack, 
as  one  would  leap  a  chasm. 

"  She  can't  go  !  He  wants  nobody  but  Hester  : 
he  told  me  so  !  And  he  said  nobody  should  hang  on 
behind,  neither." 

His  haste  to  show  Marion  the  futility  of  any  hopes 
she  might  indulge  as  to  this  last  exploit  set  them  all 
into  such  a  flutter  of  laughter,  that  no  one  betrayed 
the  surprise  really  felt  by  each  of  them  except  Hes- 
ter. She  calmly  waited  for  Mr.  Craig  to  enter,  and 


260  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

say  they  would  go  if  she  was  ready,  then  withdrew  to 
come  back  soon,  dressed  for  the  ride.  Granty  and 
Dorothy  stood  at  the  window,  watching  the  gay  little 
shell  move  slowly  through  the  drifts,  heard  the  bells 
grow  fainter  and  fainter  ;  then  they  looked  inquiring- 
ly into  space,  and,  getting  no  answer  therefrom  to 
their  unspoken  question,  they  silently  departed  to  see 
about  the  dinner.  Mr.  Severn  restrained  his  desire 
to  look  out  of  the  office-window,  accused  himself  of 
foolish  curiosity,  but  was  pleased  later  to  hear  Mari- 
on's voice  afar  off  in  the  library.  Her  being  in  the 
house  or  out  need  not  have  affected  his  sermon  ;  but 
it  certainly  did.  The  mild  surprise  that  permeated 
the  household  that  morning  reached  even  to  the 
kitchen.  Miss  O'Flarity,  and  Miss  O'Flarity  alone, 
gave  voice  to  it.  She  thrust  her  long  neck  far  out 
of  the  kitchen-door  to  see  "Miss  Marion  and  her 
frind  "  when  they  drove  away.  Seeing,  instead,  Miss 
Hester,  she  exclaimed,  "  And  fut  is  this  thin  !  It 
'ud  plaze  me  to  know  if  he's  that  bewildered  betwixt 
them  he's  picked  out  the  wrong  won  !  " 

Marion  herself,  hastily  leaving  the  parlor,  went  to 
her  own  room.  Sinking  on  her  couch  as  gracefully 
as  one  of  her  own  heroines,  she  buried  her  face  in 
her  pillow,  and  —  laughed  and  laughed  until  her  sides 
ached  with  laughter. 

Innocent  as  a  guileless,  one-idead  man  may  be  (all 


CKOSS-PURPOSES.  261 

men  are  one-idead  in  love),  and  happy  as  one  who  is 
just  where  he  chooses  to  be,  Mr.  Craig  chatted  pleas- 
antly of  various  matters,  not  waiting  always  for  re- 
sponses to  each  utterance.  He  knew  Hester  too 
well  to  expect  much  mere  talk  for  talk's  sake.  The 
road  was  not  at  all  well  broken,  and  the  sleigh  moved 
very  slowly  ;  but  rapid  transit  was  not  the  object  of 
this  particular  ride.  It  had  an  object ;  and  in  due 
time  Hester  found  it  out. 

"  I  am  usually  quite  bold,"  he  remarked  when  they 
were  away  from  the  town  ;  "  but  I  am  afraid  of  you, 
Miss  Hester.  Yesterday  I  was  even  afraid  to  tell 
you  all  the  truth  when  I  said  I  stopped  to  see  you. 
It  was  no  after-thought,  I  assure  you.  I  started  from 
home  with  one  purpose,  and  that  was  to  see  you.  I 
am  going  West ;  but  that  is  nothing.  I  may  surprise 
you  now :  you  never  gave  me  any  chance  to  show 
you  gradually  what  I  mean  to  tell  you  plainly  to-day, 
—  that  I  have  loved  you  ever  since  —  well,  perhaps 
since  the  day  you  strolled  off  among  the  lunatics,  and 
I  found  you  on  the  way  to  the  Tombs.  If  you  were 
not  yourself  the  most  sincere  and  straight-forward 
woman  whom  I  have  ever  known,  I  should  fear  you 
might  think  me  impertinent  when  I  say  I  have  dared 
to  hope  you  knew  I  loved  you,  even  if  I  have  not 
courted  you.  I  never  tried  to  hide  my  interest  in 
you." 


t62  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

They  were  gliding  softly  through  the  great  billowy 
drifts,  but  so  noiselessly  that  had  Hester  murmured 
a  word  he  would  have  heard  her.  She  was  as  motion- 
less, as  white,  as  if  frozen.  He  bent  forward,  deter- 
mined to  make  her  look  up,  and  asked  simply,  "  Will 
you  be  my  wife,  Hester  ?  " 

She  raised  her  eyes,  but  not  at  first  to  his  face, 
only  looked  out  over  the  limitless  snow-fields,  seeing 
nothing.  There  came  into  her  face  an  expression 
uncle  Jack's  patients  had  known  in  his,  —  the  yearn- 
ing tenderness  of  eyes  that  guided  the  surgeon's 
unflinching  hand.  Hester  being  a  woman,  her  lips 
trembled  when  she  answered,  "I  cannot  —  I  could 
not  be  that." 

"Why  not  ?  Would  it  be  impossible  to  love  me, 
Hester  ?  " 

"  No  :  that  is  not  it,"  she  returned,  scarcely  know- 
ing what  she  implied.  But  he  interrupted,  — 

"  If  you  ever  could,  I  can  wait.  I  expected  to  wait 
I  was  not  vain  enough  to  think  you  could  be  won 
without  an  effort.  You  do  not  know  me  yet,  — the 
best  of  me,  perhaps,  as  the  woman  I  love  better  than 
all  the  world  might  know  me.  It  is  "  — 

"  No,  I  do  not  mean  that,  either,"  said  Hester  in  a 
low  tone,  but  each  syllable  intensely  distinct  through 
earnestness.  "  I  know  you  better  than  you  imagine. 
If  I  could  marry  any  one,  I  would  marry  you.  I 


CROSS-PURPOSES.  263 

believe  now  I  knew  that  you  did  love  me.  I  could 
not  admit  it  to  myself  before,  because  I  thought  you 
ought  to  prefer  a  very  different  woman*  Everybody 
would  say  that  :  I  do  myself.  I  " — 

This  was  a  masterful  man,  by  habit  seizing  the 
main  issue  at  once ;  and  he  knew  the  woman  at  his 
side  was  not  unlike  him  in  this.  He  looked  in  her 
face  with  will  and  emotion  enough  to  get  out  all 
truth  at  once,  asking,  "  First,  before  any  thing,  tell 
me  this,  Could  you  love  me  ?  Do  you  care  for  my 
love  now  at  all  ? " 

A  fearless  light  illumined  the  face  turned  fully 
toward  him,  then  a  flood  of  color  that  retreated  as 
quickly,  because  the  light  was  wholly  of  love,  not 
at  all  of  joy.  Hester  said,  "  Yes.  But  you  must  let 
me  tell  you  all  the  rest;  and  it  makes  this  of  no 
effect." 

"This  makes  all  the  rest  of  no  effect  with  me," 
put  in  the  will  of  the  man,  who  folded  her  into  the 
fur  robes  with  his  arms,  as  closely  as  if  taking  instant 
possession  ;  not  quite  daring  to  kiss  her,  near  as  her 
face  was  ;  chagrined  that  he  did  not,  when  it  was  too 
late. 

"  It  does  and  will,"  said  Hester  firmly.  "When  I 
tell  you  all  I  have  to  tell,  you  will  see  it  is  impossible 
that  I  should  marry  you." 

"There  is  no  such  word  for  me,"  murmured  Mr. 


264  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

Craig,  a  shadow  creeping  over  his  face,  however,  at 
sight  of  the  utter  lack  of  flutter  and  hesitancy  about 
the  outwardly  cool  young  woman. 

"  Things  may  not  seem  to  you  at  all  as  they  seem 
to  me ;  but  I  must  tell  you  from  the  beginning," 
began  Hester.  "  Our  home  has  always  been  as  you 
see  it  now,  since  I  was  a  little  child,  only  that  uncle 
Jack  was  there.  You  never  knew  him  (there  will  be 
the  difficulty  of  making  you  understand) ;"  and  Hes- 
ter's voice  faltered  as  if  she  were  suddenly  aware  of 
trying  to  paint  a  picture  on  air,  —  her  background 
gone. 

"Perhaps  I  imagine  your  uncle  better  than  you 
think.  Your  sister  Marion  made  me  feel  as  if  I  had 
known  him  in  life." 

"  He  was  father  and  mother  and  friend,  playmate, 
teacher,  helper,  and  physician — all  in  one  —  to  us. 
He  made  our  lives  good,  happy,  and  helpful.  As  I 
look  back,  I  only  think  of  him  as  living  for  and  in 
other  people, — any  and  all  who  needed  him.  I  think 
he  would  have  been  miserable,  if  he  had  thought  one 
of  his  family  could  any  time  in  life  shake  free  from 
the  rest  in  the  way  of  affection,  help,  sympathy,  of 
giving  herself.  Yet  he  made  us  very  independent, 
perhaps  too  much  so  "  — 

Hester  stopped.  How  could  she  ever  bring  this 
whole  tissue  of  her  past,  out  of  which  she  had  started 


CROSS-PURPOSES.  265 

to  weave  threads  for  her  future,  under  the  compre- 
hension of  a  practical  man  like  Mr.  Craig  ?  A  thou- 
sand strands  came  in  to  make  it  up.  To  him  it 
would  all  be  one  strong  barrier  band  on  which  to 
try  his  strength  and  to  test  her  endurance.  While 
uncle  Jack's  memory  was  the  power  that  now  nerved 
her,  it  yet  gave  her,  along  with  courage,  a  creeping 
loneliness.  Something  of  this,  suggesting  itself  in 
her  face,  moved  her  companion  to  sympathy ;  and  an 
instinct  told  her  she  must  hasten,  if  she  would  have 
that  sympathy  on  his  part  undemonstrative. 

She  went  on  in  a  voice  as  unhesitating  as  a  bell  in 
the  clear,  pulseless  air.  "It  was  as  a  doctor  —  as 
'  the  doctor '  —  that  everybody  loved  him,  and  felt 
uncle  Jack's  power.  You  can  see  how  real  the  man 
himself  must  have  been,  when  I  tell  you  that  I, 
studying  him  with  a  child's  keen  eyes  and  heart,  and 
so  on  up  to  full  age,  —  that  I  have  come  to  think  his 
is  the  one  profession,  the  first  and  last,  capable  of 
being  the  best.  It  does  wholly  with  life  and  with 
death, — the  only  two  realities;  and  it  is  a  low  con- 
ception of  the  profession  that  allies  it  to  the  body 
alone.  More  than  a  minister's  even,  —  (and  what  do 
you  think  of  that  heresy?)  more  than  a  minister's, 
I  believe  it  has  to  do  with  men's  souls  ;  for  every 
soul  is  in  a  body,  and  he  who  knows  nothing  of  the 
one  cannot  know  well  the  other.  Think  of  it !  The 


*66  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

minister  touches  the  lives  of  a  community  —  how? 
he  stands  above  them  weekly,  and  tells  them  col- 
lectively truth  they  may  or  may  not  take  to  them- 
selves. He  lays  his  hands  on  their  children,  marries 
their  young  people,  prays  over  their  dead.  If  he  is  a 
good  fellow-man  as  well  as  a  good  priest,  he  becomes 
a  confessor,  as  the  doctor  is.  That  is  well.  When  I 
think  how  uncle  Jack  entered  into  the  lives  of  men 
and  women,  it  fills  me  with  awe.  He  carried  into 
his  grave,  and  back  to  God,  secrets  that  only  God 
knew.  I  do  not  think  any  one  outside  of  a  doctor's 
family  can  believe  how  people  come  to  a  good,  tender- 
hearted doctor,  as  (I  say  it  in  all  reverence)  they 
must  have  come  to  Christ  the  Lord,  —  silently  com- 
ing, you  know,  to  bring  their  helpless  or  their  sore- 
vexed,  the  wickedest  of  them  being  able  to  endure  his 
eyes  because  of  his  pity." 

Hester's  voice  was  stopped  as  with  tears  ;  but  her 
eyes  were  undimmed,  kindling  with  an  enthusiasm 
that  stirred  her  friend,  knowing,  as  he  did,  that  it 
was  awakened,  not  by  fancy,  but  by  knowledge. 

"Yes,  Hester,"  he  answered  quietly:  "you  are 
quite  right.  But  tell  me,  what  has  this  to  do  with,  or 
rather  what  can  it  have  against,  our  love  for  one 
another  ? " 

She  shrank  back  for  a  second,  then  answered,  — 
the  tremor  gone  out  of  her  voice,  the  clearness  there 


CROSS-PURPOSES.  267 

again,  —  "I  am  going  to  take  up  uncle  Jack's  work 
where  he  dropped  it.  I  am  a  woman  ;  but  some 
women  could  do  it.  I  can." 

"  I  do  not  think  I  understand  you.  I  will  when 
you  tell  me  just  what  and  all  you  mean,"  said  Mr. 
Craig  slowly,  trying  successfully  to  keep  all  surprise 
out  of  his  tone,  and  taking  her  gloved  hand  close  in 
his,  with  an  undefined  suggestion  of  holding  fast  to 
his  ideas  while  they  would  guilelessly  discuss  these 
other  matters. 

"It  takes  in  so  much!"  Hester  went  on,  letting 
her  hand  alone  :  there  was  work  enough  for  it  here- 
after, when  she  had  done  forever  with  this  man  she 
loved.  "  Long  ago  I  knew  I  had  not  only  a  love  of, 
but  a  fitness  for,  uncle  Jack's  work.  He  said  it  : 
scores  of  others  a'cknowledged  it.  When  he  died  he 
left  us  little  more  than  a  home.  There  are  five  of 
us.  He  told  us  before  he  died  to  cling  together :  by 
that,  of  course,  he  meant  mutually  care  for  and  help 
one  another.  It  will  cost  more  each  year  to  keep 
the  home  comfortable,  and  educate  Jack.  We  must 
be  quite  self-supporting,  of  course.  I  am  going  to 
study  medicine,  and  here,  among  uncle  Jack's  friends, 
practise  his  profession.  Now  you  see  why  I  cannot 
be  your  wife." 

Surprise,  doubt,  fear,  had  clouded  Mr.  Craig's  face 
by  turns  ;  but  when,  at  Hester's  last  word,  the  color 


268  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

rushed  over  her  face,  he  exclaimed,  "  That  was  brave 
in  you  when  you  stood  all  alone  !  I  honor  you  for 
it.  But  it  is  a  man's  work,  after  all  :  I  mean,  darling, 
it  is  hard,  relentless  work  ;  and  a  woman  ought  to  be 
cared  for  as  I  will  care  for  you.  The  rest  will  be  so 
easily  adjusted,  Hester.  If  I  were  a  poor  man,  there 
might  be  a  hindrance  ;  but  I  am  rich,  and  what  I 
have  we  will  share.  Do  you  think  those  whom  you 
love  I  should  not  love  also  ?  And  when  I  am  in  the 
family,  one  of  you,  does  it  make  any  difference  as  to 
whether  a  brother  or  a  sister  dispenses  the  money  ? 
It  shall  be  a  sister.  I  will  settle  on  you  a  yearly 
income  larger  than  dear  old  uncle  Jack's  could  have 
been.  We  will  educate  little  Jack  for  the  family 
doctor." 

"  He  never  would  make  one  in  the  world  :  it  is 
not  in  him.  But  it  is  in  me.  No.  If  it  were  just 
the  money  question,  I  —  that  involves  what  all  the 
rest  would  wish  "  — 

"  Leave  it  to  me,  Hester.  If  they  say  I  may  have 
you,  will  you  come  ?  Will  you  stay  Jiere  ?  " 

That  time,  certainly,  he  would  have  kissed  her,  if 
she  had  staid  there ;  but  she  recovered  as  erect  a 
position  as  ever  a  person  knowing  her  own  mind 
could,  and  said,  "It  is  too  late  now.  I  have  decided 
for  all  time.  I  can  do  this  thing  better  than  I  can  do 
any  other  work  under  the  sun  ;  and  do  it  I  must." 


CROSS-PURPOSES.  269 

They  were  driving  along  in  a  reckless  fashion,  not 
as  regards  speed,  for  the  horse  could  hardly  flounder 
through  the  drifts,  —  quite  reckless  as  to  route  ;  for 
Hester,  derelict  as  a  guide,  was  letting  him  graze 
stone  walls,  and  do  every  thing  but  climb  trees  ;  which 
last,  indeed,  was  about  the  only  feat  horse  and  driver 
did  not  attempt.  On  they  went.  Hester,  now  that 
all  was  over,  was  conscious  of  cold  and  weariness,  was 
wishful  for  home.  But  she  mistook  the  spirit  of  this 
man.  He  carefully  re-arranged  the  robes,  gathered 
up  the  reins,  and  said  cheerily,  "  Well,  my  dear  friend, 
then  I  say,  '  Study  medicine,  graduate,  be  a  doctor.' 
Only  it  puzzles  me  a  little  to  know  how  people  here- 
after will  know  that  I  am  an  editor  when  you  are 
Mrs.  Dr.  Craig. '  I  shall  get  credit  for  being  the  titled 
partner  ;  but  I  shall  not  care,  if  you  are  not  jealous." 

"  You  are  very  good  and  true.  I  can  never  be 
sorry  I  have  known  you.  I  thought  that  most  men 
were  scornful  on  such  points.  I  thought,  too,  that 
you  might  be,"  said  Hester  with  honest  pleasure. 
"  No  man  ought  to  marry  a  woman  who  is  a  doctor, 
for  his  own  comfort  ;  and  no  unselfish  woman  would 
make  a  victim  of  him.  But  I  like  to  have  you  say 
this,  and  know  you  are  willing  to  do  it,  even  for  a 
moment." 

"  Not  at  all  for  a  moment :  I  shall  marry  you  for 
all  time." 


270  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

"  No,  Mr.  Craig.  I  know  and  you  know  that  when 
you  go  home,  and  think  it  all  out  calmly,  you  will  see 
that  for  me  to  adhere  to  my  determination  will  make 
it  wise  and  best  for  me  to  remain  unmarried.  As  I 
am  situated,  I  need  have  no  domestic  cares.  I  shall, 
by  work  outside  the  home,  make  up  to  those  within 
it  what  they  do  for  me.  We  shall  be  mutually  inde- 
pendent and  dependent.  This  is  what  a  woman  can 
seldom  do.  And  it  would  not  be  true  if  I  were  to 
marry,  and  separate  myself  from  my  present  home. 
I  know  exactly  what  I  have  undertaken.  I  am  not  a 
visionary  girl,  running  wild  with  new  ideas  of  a  mis- 
sion. I  have  planned  a  life  full  of  work  ;  but  I  am 
strong.  I  can  see  the  end  from  the  beginning  ;  and 
I  think  it  is  not  an  unworthy  life  for  me,  or  a  selfish 
one.  In  detail,  I  propose  to  do  just  this." 

Hester,  then,  in  few  words,  told  all  there  was  to 
tell,  while  the  man  who  loved  her  listened  in  silence, 
—  listened  and  reasoned,  and  tried  to  find  out  what 
manner  of  woman  this  was.  He  had  not  under- 
stood her,  after  all.  One  thing  was  clear :  she  was 
womanly  to  the  core.  He  had  few  weapons  to  dis- 
arm her,  and  he  knew  it,  —  nothing  but  his  love  ;  and 
how  much  of  a  power  that  was  he  could  not  yet  tell. 
If  she  had  only  taken  up  some  plan  of  life  that  he 
could  by  argument  make  distasteful,  could  prove  that 
she  did  not  know  all  it  involved ;  if  he  could  show 


CROSS-PURPOSES.  271 

her  unfitness  for  such  a  life  —  he  could  do  none  of 
these  things.  He  admitted  with  a  secret  regret  her 
peculiar  fitness  for  the  work.  Insight,  skill,  strength, 
tenderness,  —  she  possessed  them  all. 

When  she  had  ended,  he  answered,  "  If  much  you 
have  said  did  not  come  to  me  as  true,  I  would  be 
glad  ;  for  I  am  selfish.  I  want  you  to  myself  and  for 
myself ;  but  I  am  not  blind  or  a  bigot.  I  confess 
I  think  you  might  do  all  this,  and  do  it  nobly.  If 
you  must,  you  must." 

"  Yes,  I  must" 

"  Then  I  shall  not  ask  you  to  give  it  up  :  you  would 
only  think  the  less  of  me  for  so  doing.  Will  you 
answer  me  one  more  question?  " 

"Yes,  any  question." 

"Do  you  think  a  woman  who  for  love  marries  a 
man  who  means  to  be  worthy  of  her,  and  lives  the 
best  life  she  can,  helping  him  to  do  the  same  —  do 
you  think  she  has  a  life  less  noble  than  that  you 
mark  out  for  yourself  ?  Will  you  be  as  happy  all 
alone  ? " 

For  the  first  time  great  tears  filled  the  woman's 
eyes,  and  he  was  almost  (but  yet  not  quite)  sorry  he 
so  pressed  her. 

"  I  was  not  choosing  between  the  two  lives  when 
I  decided.  I  think  almost  all  women  are  happier 
well  married  than  single.  But  every  thing  without 


272  UNCLE  JACK^S  EXECUTORS. 

and  within  me  has  turned  me  in  this  way  I  have 
marked  out.  I  know  I  was  not  vain  or  ambitious  in 
deciding  I  wanted  to  be  a  helper :  I  knew  I  could  be. 
And  if  I  am  alone  in  one  sense  —  well,  uncle  Jack 
was ;  but  people  loved  him  to  make  up  for  it.  You 
should  have  known  how  they  showed  it  when  he 
died!" 

"You  will  be  loved,  Hester,  and  you  must  be  a 
helper,  wherever  you  are.  God  makes  such  women 
as  you  for  that.  But  we  must  unite  these  two  lives, 
and  have  you  live  them  both.  We  can,  or  we  must 
try,  impossible  as  it  seems  to  you." 

"  Oh,  you  don't  know  me  at  all !  "  cried  Hester  with 
a  change  of  tone  almost  comical.  "I  cannot  come 
within  rules.  I  am  not  at  all  tractable.  You  could 
do  nothing  with  me  anyway :  you  would  be  heartily 
tired  if  you  tried." 

"  No,  no  !  "  laughed  Mr.  Craig.  "  Don't  you  know 
the  delight  of  an  editor's  heart  is  the  most  original 
article  he  can  find  ?  What  we  will  do  is  just  this  "  — 

What  they  did  was  to  awake  to  the  fact  that  the 
horse  was  meandering  into  somebody's  orchard,  and 
entangling  his  legs  in  a  rail  fence.  The  fence  main- 
tained its  position  :  the  horse  sank  slowly  out  of  sight. 
The  sleigh  capsized.  Hester,  snugly  enveloped  in 
the  robes,  rolled  gently  off  in  one  direction ;  and  the 
editor  of  "The  Phcenix  "  found  himself  projected  into 


CROSS-PURPOSES. 


273 


the  limbs  of  a  scraggly  apple-tree,  like  a  large  and 
most  unseasonable  bird.  He  floundered  as  speedily 
as  possible  toward  Hester ;  but,  before  he  reached 
her,  she  was  spreading  the  robe  over  the  snow  in  a 
way  to  walk  upon  it,  while  she  called  his  prompt 
attention  to  righting  the  sleigh,  and  helping  the 
horse.  Fortunately  nothing  was  broken,  and  .the 
accident  served  a  good  purpose,  in  that  it  suggested 
to  them  that  they  had  better  turn  around.  It  would 
be  useless  to  repeat  in  detail  all  the  subsequent  con- 
versation. What  had  been  already  said  by  each  was 
said  again  in  other  words  ;  but  neither  was  convinced 
by  any  new  argument.  Hester  refused  to  reconsider 
her  decision.  She  would  not  be  persuaded  into  a 
conditional  engagement. 

"  It  would  only  result  in  trouble  for  each  of  us," 
she  said,  "and  would  all  along  make  it  harder  for  me. 
I  cannot  do  any  thing  half  way.  If  I  am  to  study 
in  these  coming  months,  my  mind  must  be  undis- 
tracted." 

A  narrower-minded  man  would  have  been  irritated 
by  opposition,  or  would  have  given  her  up  at  once 
as  too  strong-willed.  When  there  seemed  no  plea 
that  Mr.  Craig  could  urge,  he  gathered  up  the  reins 
resolutely,  and  exclaimed,  "  You  will  not  promise  to 
marry  me ;  but  I  have  one  comfort,  you  will  not 
marry  any  one  else,  —  that  is,  I  hope  not  ? " 


274  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

Hester  promptly  answered,  "No." 

"  Well,  then,  I  shall  wait.  Physicians  retire  some- 
times from  practice.  Fifty  years  from  now,  you  may 
be  at  leisure.  I  will  leave  my  duties  as  managing 
editor,  and  run  down  here  for  you  ;  that  is,  if  I  cannot 
do  it  sooner.  Hester,  remember  it  took  six  engines 
to  overcome  the  obstacles  that  separated  me  from  you 
yesterday ;  but  I  found  you.  I  am  going  home  to 
order  an  engagement-ring  engraved  with  six  puffing 
boilers.  There  is  a  beautiful  suggestion  of  success 
to  me  in  the  emblem,  and  I  believe  I  shall  use  the 
ring." 

He  glanced  at  Hester ;  but  she  made  no  answer. 
She  had  said  all  she  had  to  say.  He  knew  now,  as 
well  as  if  told,  that  henceforth  she  would  be  his  shy, 
noncommittal  friend,  nothing  more.  He  stopped  the 
horse  with  a  sudden  impulse,  and  they  sat  motionless 
in  a  silent,  snow-white  world,  not  a  human  habitation 
in  sight. 

"  Hester,  is  it  simple  truth  that  you  would  marry 
me  if  you  did  not  believe  that  either  your  husband  or 
your  work  would  be  less  to  you  than  was  wise  ? " 

"Yes." 

"Will  you  promise  me,  that  if  I  am  going  to  die, 
and  send  to  you,  you  will  come  and  be  my  doctor, 
while  you  can  give  that  your  undivided  attention, 
then,  when  I  am  really  going,  and  cannot  interfere 


CROSS-PURPOSES. 


275 


with  further  professional  duties,  you  will  marry 
me  ?  " 

She  thought  he  was  ridiculing  her  ;  and  the  look 
she  gave  him  was  a  revelation  of  the  spirit  of  a 
"shy,  cool "  woman  under  provocation.  He  met  the 
look  with  one  that  outlasted  hers,  and  quenched  it ; 
then  he  said,  "  If  I  am  going  to  die,  Hester,  will 
you  be  my  wife  ?  It  will  be  not  much  to  ask  at  the 
last,  after  refusing  me  happiness  for  all  my  life." 

She  answered,  "Yes;"  and  they  went  the  rest  of 
the  way  almost  in  silence. 

Nobody  at  the  cheerful  dinner-table  would  have 
imagined,  from  the  collected,  gentle  demeanor  of 
their  guest,  how  stirring  to  his  emotional  nature  had 
been  the  morning  sleigh-ride.  Hester  was  impene- 
trable, or  would  have  been,  had  any  one  undertaken 
to  study  her.  Jack  announced  that  the  railroad 
track  was  clear,  and  trains  were  running.  Mr.  Craig 
made  known  his  intention  to  proceed  on  his  journey 
that  afternoon,  and  in  consequence  spoke  repeatedly 
of  the  pleasure  he  had  received  from  visiting  them 
all  in  their  own  home.  Before  going,  he  arranged 
with  Marion  for  a  series  of  articles  of  a  sort  she  felt 
a  renewed  interest  in  undertaking,  and  which  were 
sure  to  prove  profitable.  Then,  with  hearty  hand- 
shakes, with  a  hug  from  Jack,  a  message  left  for  Mr. 
Severn,  and  many  taken  to  the  Pepperfields,  the 
editor  of  "  The  Phcenix  "  was  gone. 


276  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

"  I  forgot,"  said  Granty,  when  the  echo  of  his  voice 
had  died  away,  "  to  ask  him  if  he  was  a  New-England 
man.  I  presume  he  was  originally.  —  Do  you  know, 
Marion  ? " 

Marion  had  gone  with  Jack  to  see  his  snow  fort. 

"  Oh  !  —  Hester,  it  is  you,  is  it  ?  Well,  he  is  a 
very  fascinating  gentleman,  isn't  he  ?  Did  you 
notice  any  thing  queer  about  the  gravy  this  noon  ? 
Bridget  put  curry-powder  into  it.  She  declared  she 
had  seen  it  done,  and  it  was  nice.  I  don't  exactly 
see  what  he  came  for.  I  suppose  Marion  would  not 
tell,  if  she  knew.  Queer,  his  taking  you  to  ride,  if 
he  is  particularly  interested  in  her.  I  myself  do  not 
like  quite  so  much  finesse  in  such  matters.  But 
dearie  me  !  what  does  it  matter  ?  " 

Hester  did  not  hear  her.  She  was  wondering  if 
she  should  consider  herself  a  fool,  a  genuine  woman, 
or  a  possible  power,  —  perhaps  somewhat  of  all. 
Should  she  go  away  and  think  the  matter  over  in  a 
feminine  way  ?  Perish  the  thought !  There  was 
danger  there.  She  went  instead  to  the  barn,  and 
sought  out  Pete's  shortcomings,  and  meted  out  justice 
to  him.  She  came  in  again,  and  read  a  lecture  on 
anatomy.  She  was  cast  down,  but  not  destroyed. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

Two   Years  Later.     Dorothy  to  Hester. 

MARCH  9,  18-. 

DEAR  HESTER,  —  "Time  in  its  ever-onward  course  "(as 
Parson  Welles's  anniversary  sermons  always  began)  "has 
brought  us  once  more  "  to  the  day  when  a  letter  must  be  writ- 
ten you.  Granty  will  not  let  the  duty  be  omitted,  although  I 
believe  you  would  not  know  the  difference,  absorbed  as  you  are 
with  your  dreadful  "  goings-on."  Aunt  Huldah  wrote  to  Granty 
how  you  went  to  hospital  clinics  with  students  from  the  college, 
and  sat  upright  through  some  operation  at  which  a  certain 
young  man  fainted.  What  a  perfect  fossil  you  must  have 
become  !  Or  do  you  pride  yourself  on  your  nerve  ?  I  suppose 
it  is  that.  Granty  tells  vague  but  blood-curdling  stories  of 
medical  students  to  Bridget;  and  Bridget  says  if  ever  she  knows 
of  Miss  Hester's  "  cutting  up  a  Christian  after  she  gets  home," 
she  will  "lave  widout  a  word  o'  warnin'."  Aunt  Huldah  says 
Mr.  Pepperfield  is  very  much  out  of  health :  we  are  all  so  sorry 
to  hear  it !  Don't  you  know  enough  yet  to  help  him  ?  I  sup- 
pose you  are  greatly  pleased  to  be  chosen  valedictorian.  I 
often  wonder  what  uncle  Jack  would  say  to  your  success  so  far. 
Granty  is  well,  and  busy  as  usual.  She  has  been  elected  presi- 
dent of  the  Ladies'  Missionary  Society.  It  would  please  you  to 
hear  the  artless  way  in  which  she  tells  the  members  their  duty, 

277 


278  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

and  her  righteous  indignation  when  they  do  as  they  please. 
Jack  is  taking  a  course  of  Jules  Verne.  We  shall  never  have 
him  again  until  after  he  has  been  to  the  moon,  sounded  the  sea, 
dwelt  in  coral  caves,  and  swept  the  universe  on  the  tail  of  a 
comet.  He  talks  in  his  sleep  about  mysterious  islands  and  un- 
known beings  with  singular  titles.  When  not  reading,  he  is  at 
his  inventions.  He  told  me  last  night  of  a  plan  to  supply  pure 
air  to  steerage  passengers  in  steamships.  By  the  same  means, 
the  ships  could  be  made  to  float  after  any  accident,  and,  in  case 
of  fire,  this  surplus  air  could  be  used  as  an  extinguisher.  Who 
knows  but  that  he  may  make  us  rich  some  day  ?  Why  do  you 
never  speak  of  Mr.  Craig?  Aunt  Huldah  says  he  boards  with 
her :  so  you  must  see  him,  at  least  at  the  table.  I  suppose  you 
study  evenings.  Well,  we  are  glad  you  get  your  diploma  in  a 
few  weeks. 

We  have  had  the  office  repainted,  but  have  not  changed  any 
familiar  object.  The  big  red  chair  would  look  fresher  with  the 
arms  varnished;  but  we  left  it  worn  as  it  used  to  be.  We  also 
left  the  three  old  doctors'  portraits  over  the  desk,  with  the  gilt 
pestle  and  mortar  behind.  Do  you  remember  when  it  was  the 
sign  on  a  pole  by  the  front-gate  ?  We  have  added  a  few  touches 
here  and  there,  put  new  curtains  on  rods,  a  new  table-cover, 
easy-chairs,  and  a  paper-rack.  I  trained  a  long  ivy  to  cover  the 
tarnished  frame  of  that  old  chap  who  discovered  the  circulation 
of  the  blood.  And,  oh  !  now  I  propose  to  tell  you  something 
that  will  quicken  the  circulation  of  your  blood,  unless  your  wits 
have  been  sharper  than  ours.  Marion  is  engaged  to  be  married! 

Granty  has  always  believed  there  was  something  behind 
Marion's  long  correspondence  with  Mr.  Craig;  but  it  must 
always  have  been  business,  after  all.  Of  course,  now  you  know 
it  is  Mr.  Severn ;  for,  as  Marion  naively  asks,  "  Who  else  is 
there  "  to  whom  she  could  be  engaged? 


TWO    YEARS  LATER.      DOROTHY  TO  HESTER. 


279 


We  found  it  out  in  this  way.  One  night  last  week  there  was 
a  merry-making  at  the  Scudder  farm.  Have  I  told  you  that 
Mrs.  Molly  has  two  beautiful  babies,  twins  ?  Mr.  Scudder  is 
as  delighted  as  if  his  home-circle  did  not  already  resemble  a 
juvenile  boarding-school.  They  (the  twins)  being  now  five 
months  old,  he  conceived  the  idea  of  having  a  great  christening 
party,  and  we  were,  of  course,  invited.  All  was  done  in  fine 
style :  his  mother-in-law  took  care  of  that.  Moreover,  there  was 
a  whole-souled'  hospitality  about  the  affair  that  is  lacking  some- 
times in  her  own  parties.  Mr.  Scudder's  outer  man  is  quite 
transformed.  He  looks  and  appears  well.  It  was  a  beautiful 
moonlight  night,  and  Granty  and  I  rode  over  in  the  phaeton. 
Mr.  Severn  had  a  carriage,  and  asked  Marion  to  go  with  him. 
Old  Mortality  was  in  one  of  his  moods.  He  crawled  along,  and 
I  thought  the  twins  would  be  celebrating  some  other  episode  in 
their  lives  by  the  time  we  got  there,  —  their  majority  perhaps. 
Mr.  Severn,  on  the  contrary,  had  a  fast  horse,  and  went  the 
"short  cut,"  which  we  did  not  take,  as  Granty  thinks  the  hill 
dangerous.  J  was  surprised,  when  we  drove  in  at  the  Scudder 
gate,  to  see  :Mr.  Severn  draw  quietly  up  behind  tis.  I  said, 
"  Did  you  halve  any  accident?" 

Marion  dioVnot  speak;  but  Mr.  Severn  tried  to  turn  it  off  by 
one  of  his  absurd  Shakspearean  quotations.  He  remarked, 
"  Sweet  flowers  are  slow,  and  weeds  make  haste." 

"  Dear  me  ! "  I  returned,  "  is  that  what  ails  you  ?  I  did  not 
think  of  you  two  as  being  in  what  he  calls  your  '  salad  days,' 
when  you  are  'green  in  judgment.'" 

They  were  in  such  a  happy  frame,  they  seemed  to  find  that 
especially  funny,  and  the  truth  flashed  upon  me.  Granty  could 
not  be  gotten  into  the  house  until  she  told  him  his  horse  must 
be  all  fagged  out  from  previous  hard  driving,  and  that  we  could 
take  Marion  home,  so  he  would  have  a  lighter  load.  When  we 


280  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

were  in  the  dressing-room,  I  said  to  Marion,  "  What  have  you 
to  say  for  yourself  ?  Is  it  so,  or  is  it  not  ?  and,  as  Granty  would 
say,  how  long  has  this  been  going  on  ?  " 

She  laughed ;  she  blushed ;  she  said,  "  Let  us  quote  Shak- 
speare  once  all  around.  '  Fortune  brings  in  some  boats  that  are 
not  steered.'  I  did  not  know  where  I  was  drifting  when  it 
began  ;  but  now  I  do" 

We  went  then  to  the  parlor,  and  greeted  Mrs.  and  Mr.  Scud- 
der,  the  Howells,  and  innumerable  youthful  Scudders,  all  re- 
sembling more  or  less  "she  that  was,"  until  by  and  by  the 
twins,  belonging  to  "  she  that  is,"  were  brought  in,  and  Mr. 
Severn  christened  them.  His  face  was  radiant  with  joy  over 
that  scene  (or  some  other);  and  he  never  winced  while  the  two 
wailed,  and  gnashed  their  gums,  at  being  called  Edwin  Theodore 
and  Theodora  Edwina.  He  got  the  final  "  a  "  on  to  the  girl  with 
the  blue  ribbon,  too,  and  not  on  to  the  boy  with  the  red  label 
as  I  feared  he  would. 

Mr.  Severn  says  he  has  been  in  love  with  Marion  for  nearly 
three  years,  but  until  lately  he  supposed  she  was  engaged  to 
Mr.  Craig.  Does  not  that  prove  there  must  have  been  some- 
thing in  our  fancies?  Marion  is  very  undemonstrative.  She 
says  she  loves  him,  and  intends  to  marry  him.  Think  of  that 
for  point-blankedness  in  one  who  devotes  her  time  to  showing 
how  other  women  expatiate  over  their  emotions ;  how  they 
weep,  blush,  tremble,  and  experience  new  and  thrilling  what- 
you-may-call-'em's  !  It  does  not  seem  proper  for  her  merely  to 
say  she  is  happy,  and  have  done  with  it.  Granty  is  very  much 
pleased.  Marion  will  marry  goodness,  culture,  some  money, 
above  all,  a  New-England  person.  This  is  a  high-toned  pro- 
ceeding, according  to  her  ideas.  You  must  know,  Hester,  that, 
away  down  in  Granty's  heart,  she  thinks  otyour  doings  as  star- 
tling, brilliant,  perhaps  commendable,  but  not  what  any  of  her 


TWO    YEARS  LATER.      DOROTHY  TO  HESTER.    281 

aunt  Leggett's  family  ever  desired,  and  which  all  her  other 
ancestors  happily  died  without  the  sight  of.  You  will  be  inter- 
ested to  know  that  we  have  gotten  rid  of  all  your  hens.  They 
were  in  some  respects  rather  ornamental ;  but  they  never  laid 
any  eggs,  and  were  the  toughest  creatures  to  eat  you  can 
imagine.  Pete  and  Jack  had  built  an  elegant  villa  for  them; 
but,  once  let  out,  they  never  would  go  home  until  morning,  but 
would  roost  up  in  the  plum-trees,  half  buried  in  the  snow. 
Nightly  Pete  had  to  grapple  with  them,  or  leave  them  there  to 
freeze.  They  scratched  and  pecked  him,  of  course.  He  or 
they  had  to  be  sacrificed.  Marion  and  I  could  not  endure  it. 
Their  society  was  nothing  to  the  vexation  they  caused:  so  we 
have  cooked  them  two  by  two. 

Marion  says  you  dislike  ministers,  and  you  will  be  savage 
with  her,  she  fears.  Now,  don't  be  rude,  Hester:  there  is  no 
use  in  it.  Tell  aunt  Pepperfield  we  will  write  all  the  plans  when 
they  have  matured  them.  Marion  expects  to  stay  right  along 
here  with  us  after  they  marry.  Now  I  must  end  my  letter. 
Jack  sends  love. 

Yours, 

DOROTHY  PRESCOTT. 
• 

On  finishing  this  letter,  Hester  searched  her  desk 
to  find  a  certain  letter  from  which  she  made  extracts. 
It  gave  her  a  purely  feminine  satisfaction  to  put  at 
the  end  of  the  very  kind  and  sisterly  letter  she  im- 
mediately wrote  to  Marion  a  paragraph  like  this  :  — 

"  What  makes  you  imagine  that  I  do  not  like  ministers  ?  '  I 
think  Mr.  Severn  a  very  harmless  sort  of  a  person,'  and  I  do 
not  agree  with  a  well-known  authoress  who  once  said, '  How  can 


282  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

a  woman  be  deluded  enough  to  marry  a  minister,  no  matter  how 
good  he  is  ?  If  he  is  puffed  up  by  conceit  and  spiritual  arro- 
gance, as  many  of  them  are,  what  does  she  do  ?  How  terribly 
bored  an  intelligent  woman  must  be  by  having  always  to  listen 
to  her  own  husband's  sermons  ;  to  have  him  preach  her  in  sen- 
tences she  could  finish  for  him,  if  he  choked  midway !  The 
idea  is  dreadful !  Minister's  wives  —  poor  wretches  ! '  &c.  The 
woman  that  wrote  that,  Marion,  must  have  been  prejudiced  in 
some  way.  Don't  you  think  she  was  ?  "  .  .  . 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Granty  to  Aunt  Pepperfield. 

(Twelve  months  later.) 

DEAR  SISTER,  —  I  have  been  trying  all  the  week  to  get 
a  chance  to  write  to  you ;  but  more  or  less  of  the  care  of 
this  great  house  rests  on  me.  The  girls  do  pretty  well ;  but 
young  people  cannot  have  the  judgment  of  older  ones,  let  them 
do  their  best.  Huldah,  I  cannot  realize  that  poor  Mr.  Pepper- 
field  has  gone.  He  had  been  ill  so  long,  it  need  not  have  sur- 
prised us  so  much  at  the  last ;  but  still  it  was  a  great  shock. 
We  think  you  are  very  wise  in  your  decision  to  break  up  house- 
keeping, and  we  are  so  glad  to  think  of  having  you  back  as  one 
of  us  for  all  time  to  come !  Why,  Huldah,  I  did  not  think  Mr. 
Pepperfield  was  a  rich  man.  I  never  thought  any  thing  much 
about  it,  beyond  the  fact  of  your  having  enough.  I  am  very 
glad  now  to  learn  that  you  are  left  in  such  easy  circumstances. 
Money  is  a  matter  of  very  little  importance  in  this  world,  any- 
way, so  long  as  one  has  food,  raiment,  and  enough  for  other 
reasonable  demands.  I  have  had  sometimes  to  reprove  the  girls 
for  undue  worry  about  making  "  ends  meet,"  as  Dorothy  says. 
What  if  they  don't  meet  ?  I  tell  her  the  Lord  will  fill  up  the 
gap  with  something.  He  always  has,  and  it  ill  becomes  us  to 
doubt  him.  Dorothy  is  like  the  New-Testament  Martha.  But 
I  started  to  say  that  you  would  be  just  as  welcome  back,  if  you 


284  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

should  return  as  you  went,  —  with  only  yourself  and  your  trunk : 
so  I  do  not  hesitate  to  add  that  we  are  glad  you  are  rich,  com- 
paratively speaking.  Why  should  you,  not  cast  in  your  lot  with 
us  ?  For  whom  should  we  two  old  people  live,  if  not  for  these 
children  of  our  sister  ?  Perhaps  you  had  better  bring  your  best 
furniture,  as  you  suggest.  I  like  a  change  once  in  a  while ;  and 
ours  begins  to  show  service.  Can  you  not  select  some  of  the 
finest  plants  from  yours  also  ?  and  don't  sell  off  any  of  those 
pretty  Chinese  curiosities  you  showed  me  once.  You  have  not 
seen  Marion's  husband  yet,  have  you?  His  mother  was  one 
of  the  old  Winchesters.  I  heard  of  them  in  my  younger  days. 
He  is  a  very  kind,  thoughtful  man,  so  careful  for  my  comfort, 
that  it  seems  as  if  he  must  always  have  been  in  the  family.  You 
are  glad,  I  know,  to  hear  often  of  Hester's  remarkable  success 
in  her  practice.  She  has  all  her  uncle's  old  families  in  the 
village  and  country.  The  sign  over  the  door  of  the  office  was 
never  taken  down ;  and  "  Dr.  Prescott  "  does  now  for  her.  His 
old  patients  come  morning,  noon,  and  night,  exactly  as  they 
used  to  come ;  and,  when  Old  Mortality  trots  up  to  the  door,  I 
often  expect  to  see  the  dear  old  man  appear,  instead  of  Hester. 
I  say  Old  Mortality  trots,  which  may  surprise  you.  There  is 
something  very  queer  in  this.  You  know,  before  our  brother 
died,  he  said  this  was  a  good,  strong  horse,  and  we  had  better 
keep  him.  We  did;  but  he.  never  appeared  to  feel  well  —  except 
his  appetite.  We  tried  every  thing  for  feed,  thinking  that  made 
the  difference.  He  had  mixtures  and  plain  food,  oats,  clover, 
Timothy,  Indian  meal,  buckwheat,  stale  bread,  carrots,  swill, 
stuff  called  broads  —  no,  shorts,  and  I  don't  know  what  else 
unless  it  was  sawdust.  We  consulted  the  neighbors,  because 
sometimes  he  was  swelled  up  like  a  beer-barrel,  and  did  not 
travel  any  faster.  Sometimes  he  grew  minching,  and  looked 
weak,  and  so  pitiable,  that  we  let  him  stand  still  in  the  stable. 


GRANTY  TO  AUNT  PEPPERFIELD.  285 

When  Hester  came  home,  she  took  him  in  charge,  as  if  he  were 
a  patient  demoralized  by  quacks.  She  examined  his  teeth,  and 
looked  him  well  over  to  see  if  he  was  worth  training ;  then  she 
put  him  on  proper  (as  she  said)  feed  for  a  month,  and  got  him  to 
look  splendid.  I  was  sorry  to  have  her  buy  a  whip  with  a  lash 
long  and  very  snappy ;  but  she  did.  You  know  young  doctors 
are  always  hard  on  horses.  Her  uncle,  good  man  as  he  was, 
used  up  several  in  his  day :  he  would  not  go  slow.  Well,  Hes- 
ter started  one  day,  with  Old  Mortality,  and  off  he  paced  more 
deliberate  than  ever.  I  saw  the  new  whip  coming  out,  and  I 
shut  my  eyes,  until  I  heard  Mr.  Severn  laughing  immoderately. 
I  just  caught  one  glimpse  of  the  horse  and  Hester  going  over 
the  hill  like  —  I  don't  know  what.  Mr.  Severn  said  Old  Mor- 
tality rolled  up  his  eyes  in  surprise,  waited  until  the  whip  sung 
through  the  air  a  second  time,  then  he  went  like  the  wind.  He 
has  gone  so  ever  since  —  for  Hester.  When  I  go,  he  steps  along 
about  as  usual.  I  let  him.  Poor  fellow,  he  has  his  failings ;  but 
so  have  we  all,  if  we  are  not  horses.  Yes,  Hester  has  all  the 
first  families  ;  and  Dorothy  says  she  might  get  rich,  and  have  a 
very  easy  time,  if  she  would  insist  on  regular  office-hours,  and 
choose  her  own  patients.  You  might  as  well  talk  to  the  north 
star.  She  goes  where  she  likes  and  when  she  sees  fit.  If 
nothing  much  ails  Mrs.  Judge  Pinkham,  —  who  wants  her  to 
coddle  her  up,  no  matter  what  she  charges,  —  instead,  as  she 
says,  of  "dancing  attendance"  on  her,  she  will  leave  her  fuss- 
ing, and  ride  six  miles  or  more  to  attend  to  some  poor  little 
pauper,  who  had  much  better  staid  out  of  the  world,  —  to  my 
thinking.  That  is  brother  Jack  over  again.  He  doctored  the 
rich  because  they  needed  him,  and  the  poor  for  the  very  same 
reason.  Time  and  again  I  used  to  think  of  a  verse  in  the 
Bible,  though  there  was  no  real  connection  of  ideas.  It  was 
with  her  uncle  Jack  as  with  David:  "Everyone  that  was  in 


286  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

distress,  or  every  one  that  was  in  debt,  or  every  one  that  was 
bitter  of  soul "  (as  the  margin  reads)  "gathered  themselves  unto 
him."  But,  dearie  me !  to  come  down  to  the  point,  he  was  only 
doing  right ;  and  I  never  want  Hester  to  refuse  any  help  that 
she  can  give.  I  suppose,  from  what  you  say,  that  you  will 
not  break  up  housekeeping  until  May.  That  is  about  six  weeks 
from  now.  Would  you  like  Dorothy  to  come  and  help  you  ?  I 
shall  have  the  south  rooms  made  ready  for  you  here :  you  like 
those  best,  I  believe.  There !  I  must  see  if  Bridget  has  made 
a  pudding  for  dinner.  All  send  love.  '  Take  care  of  yourself, 
and  do  not  get  sick.  It  is  very  sad  for  you  to  be  breaking  up 
your  pleasant  home  in  Ingleside;  but  this  is  a  world  of  change. 
Mr.  Pepperfield  was  one  of  the  kindest  of  men,  and  one  to  be 
greatly  missed.  Those  antique  brass  candlesticks  you  had  in 
your  east  room  please  bring.  I  admire  them  very  much.  I 
hope  the  Lord  will  keep  you  in  peace  and  safety  until  we  meet. 
YOUR  AFFECTIONATE  SISTER. 

P.S.  —  Mr.  Severn  and  Marion  talk  of  going  to  Europe  next 
summer.  Did  I  tell  you  how  well  her  new  book  is  selling  ? 
Mr.  Craig  wrote  her  he  was  delighted  with  it,  and  sent  her  a 
quantity  of  press  commendations. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 
The  Last  of  Hester  Prescott. 

"  If  I  do  vow  a  friendship,  I'll  perform  it 
To  the  last  article."  SHAKSPEARE. 

ONE  day  early  in  April,  Hester  took  the  express- 
train  for  Ingleside  under  circumstances  most 
peculiar,  and  in  the  frame  of  mind  of  one  awakened 
from  a  sound  sleep,  who  tries  to  remember  where  he 
was  when  last  conscious,  where  his  head  is  now,  and 
if  he  is  not  mistaken  about  having  awakened  at  all. 
A  few  hours  before,  she  had  been  riding  placidly 
along  a  country  lane,  with  Jack  as  driver,  stopping 
to  let  him  scurry  into  the  near  woods,  and  pick  wake- 
robins,  while  she  thought  what  next  to  do  for  old 
Mrs.  Blake's  unruly  liver.  They  were  driving  in  at 
the  home  gate  a  little  later,  when  Pete  rushed  at  her 
with  a  telegraphic  message,  the  three  lines  of  which 
had  made  all  her  mental  operations  go  on  after  the 
manner  of  a  kaleidoscope,  — changing  every  moment ; 
the  whole  tissue  of  her  thoughts  made  up  of  strange 

fragments. 

287 


288  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

"  Mr.  Craig  is  very  ill.  He  cannot  live,  and  wishes 
to  see  you" 

"  What  does  it  mean  ?  What  can  he  want  of 
you  ? "  asked  Marion,  coming  out  into  the  sunshine 
to  know  if  aunt  Pepperfield  had  sent  any  message 
that  concerned  them  all,  and  taking  the  paper  from 
Hester,  who  stood  as  if  paralyzed.  It  was  only  for  a 
moment  ;  then  she  said,  "  Mr.  Craig  wanted  to  marry 
me  a  few  years  ago.  I  refused  him  ;  but  I  promised, 
if  he  were  going  to  die,  I  would  go  to  him,  —  would 
marry  him.  It  means  that.  Let  me  go  without  any 
more  questions.  I  shall  start  on  the  noon-train,  but 
I  have  work  to  do  first." 

When  Hester's  voice  had  that  ring,  people  always 
obeyed,  and  the  most  talkative  held  their  peace,  even 
if  they  did  not  know  why.  Marion  found  a  travelling- 
bag,  filled  it,  did  all  she  could  do,  and,  knowing 
Hester,  she  was  not  surprised  to  see  her,  in  the  time 
that  followed,  making  out  prescriptions,  consulting 
once  a  medical  book,  leaving  medicine  properly 
labelled  for  various  persons,  and  finally  going  to  see 
if  a  brother-doctor  would  take  charge  of  her  business 
until  she  returned.  It  was,  nevertheless,  one  of  the 
strangest,  longest  hours  in  Hester's  experience,  from 
the  fact  that  she  lived  it  double  in  a  sense.  There 
was,  as  it  seemed,  one  of  her  that  went  right  on,  by 
sheer  will,  with  duty  and  work.  Another  self  was 


THE  LAST  OF  HESTER  PRESCOTT.  289 

whirled  here  arid  there  with  excitement,  busy  with 
memory,  with  doubt,  with  love  aroused,  and  the  pain 
of  something  akin  to  regret,  — for  what,  she  even 
then  did  not  know ;  but  she  did  know,  as  she  jour- 
neyed on  hour  after  hour  that  day,  what  her  decision 
long  ago  had  cost  her.  She  wondered  at  herself  as 
she  might  have  done  at  another  who  possessed  char- 
acter enough  to  be  firm  under  pressure.  With  incon- 
sistency, she  was  not  sure  she  was  glad  that  she  had 
been  firm.  If  the  past  was  bewildering  in  review, 
the  future  in  its  outlook  was  —  what  ?  A  plung'e  into 
darkness,  a  fight  alone  in  the  shadows ;  and  then  — 
then  there  was  work.  In  that  moment  Hester  knew 
she  was  in  earnest,  and  that  she  had  made  no  mistake 
in  clinging  to  that  work.  While  she  loved  this  man 
to  whom  she  was  going  so  much  that  she  dared  to 
show  that  love  in  the  presence  of  the  death-angel, 
and  declare  it  holy  enough  to  stand  there,  she  was 
also  as  sure,  that,  outside  that  presence,  her  work 
would  await  her,  and  would  not  seem,  when  she  took 
it  up  again,  like  something  that  had  lost  a  glamour. 
It  would  be,  as  it  had  been,  very  good,  —  the  thing 
that  it  was  in  her  to  go  on  with,  because  she  must. 

There  are  many  women  who  can  love  one  other 
human  being  —  child,  lover,  or  husband  —  with  a  love 
that  is  marvellous.  There  are  a  few  (even  fewer 
women  than  men)  who  are  drawn  to  love  all  other 


290  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

human  beings  because  of  their  very  humanity. 
Unless  death  left  such  a  man  or  woman  the  last  one 
of  the  race,  he  could  not  make  that  one  wholly 
miserable.  Only  to  be  needed  by  none  would  be 
such  a  one's  misery.  But  you  may  be  sure  few 
theories  of  life,  few  precepts  for  her  future,  drew 
Hester's  thoughts  long  from  the  man  to  whom  she 
was  going.  This  awful  new  suggestion  of  death  was 
so  much  worse  than  mere  separation  from  him, 
knowing  him  to  be  well  and  prosperous.  There  was 
but  dne  other  thing  that  could  have  pierced  her  as 
deeply,  —  the  knowledge  of  his  marriage. 

She  was  conscientious  enough  to  be  shocked  when 
she  thought  of  this,  because  she  supposed  she  had 
been  a  better  physician  to  her  own  malady.  So  far 
as  he  alone  was  concerned,  she  did  wish  him  to  be 
happy,  by  marriage,  if  need  be ;  but  as  it  concerned 
her,  after  all  these  months  it  was  as  it  was.  This 
was  a  revelation  that  surprised  her,  a  fact  that  might 
not  have  showed  its  white  face  on  the  surface,  if  such 
a  powerful  tumult  had  not  stirred  the  depths  :  being 
there,  however,  up  it  came. 

Whatever  Hester  may  have  thought  of  her  sum- 
mons, it  was  evident  on  her  arrival  that  aunt  Pepper- 
field  had  no  suspicion  of  there  being  any  thing 
'beyond  a  mere  friendship  between  Mr.  Craig  and 
her  niece. 


THE  LAST  OF  HESTER  PRESCOTT. 


291 


"I  did  not  know  whether  you  would  come  or  not," 
were  her  first  words.  "  It  seemed  a  wild  notion  of 
his ;  yet  the  doctor  declared  he  was  perfectly  rational : 
so  what  could  I  do  but  send  for  you  ?  Perhaps  he 
fancies  you  may  think  of  some  new  treatment. 
There  have  been  several  consultations,  and  I  do  not 
suppose  there  is  any  hope.  Only  think  of  it !  Such 
a  man,  and  just  in  the  prime  of  life  !  " 

Hester,  after  a  moment,  asked,  "  What  ails  him  ? 
and  how  long  has  he  been  sick  ?  "  Then  she  sat  still, 
and  let  aunt  Huldah  take  off  her  hat,  and  bring  her 
hot  coffee,  hoping  she  would  get  through  the  sooner 
her  kindly  offices,  and  tell  an  uninterrupted  story. 
At  last  her  aunt  dropped  back  on  to  the  sofa,  where 
she  had  passed  the  night  (it  was  not  yet  daylight), 
and,  finding  Hester  impatient  to  listen,  began :  — 

"You  know  I  expected  to  be  all  broken  up  in  my 
housekeeping  by  the  first  of  May.  Well,  three  or 
four  weeks  ago  Mr.  Craig,  who  was  looking  for  a 
new  boarding-place,  complained  of  feeling  ill.  He 
did  not  eat  any  thing,  could  not  write,  finally  became 
much  worse.  I  will  say  just  here  that  nobody  has 
decided  what  ails  him.  He  has  had  as  many  diseases 
as  he  has  had  doctors  to  examine  him.  Each  one  of 
them,  so  it  seems  to  me,  has  chosen  a  different  organ, 
and  located  the  trouble  there,  —  all  except  the  regu- 
larly attending  doctor,  and  he  saves  himself  by  call- 


292  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

ing  it  a  'complication.'  I  have  heard  it  one  day 
explained  as  a  terribly  disturbed  action  of  the  liver, 
next  day  as  a  mysterious  trouble  in  the  stomach, 
once  as  dropsy,  often  as  wrong*  state  of  the  heart, 
ever  so  many  times  as  his  different  ducts,  whatever 
they  are  :  I  suppose  you  know  all  about  them.  Well, 
he  has  grown  steadily  weaker,  does  not  suffer  so  much 
pain  ;  but  he  loses  life  out  01  him  each  day.  We  all 
see  that,  and  he  knows  it.  The  doctors  say  very 
little  now.  The  old  nurse  in  there  says  they  are  afraid 
to  be  too  explicit,  for  fear  of  a  post  mortem  exami- 
nation that  might  prove  they  did  not  know  what  they 
were  talking  about.  Dreadful,  isn't  it  ? "  she  ex- 
claimed, seeing  Hester  shiver. 

"Yesterday  he  asked  if  it  was  not  time  that  he 
attended  to  any  thing  left  undone  (he  made  his  will 
last  week) ;  and  the  doctor  said  yes,  do  any  thing  he 
had  to  do  at  once.  We  understood  that,  as  he  did, 
to  be  an  admission  that  all  hope  was  past.  He  talked 
with  the  doctor  a  while  alone,  seemed  perfectly  calm, 
but  asked  that  you  might  be  sent  for." 

Hester  had  cowered  down  over  the  fire  rigid  and 
dumb:  she  now  asked  in  a  muffled  voice,  "When 
can  I  see  him  ? " 

"  Not  before  ten  o'clock  this  morning,  the  doctor 
said :  that  is  his  brightest  time.  He  changed  -his 
medicine  last  night,  and  began  a  quite  new  treat- 


THE  LAST  OF  HESTER  PRESCOTT.  293 

ment :  so  he  wishes  to  keep  him  quiet  long  enough 
to  see  the  effect." 

Hester  asked  no  more  questions.  Aunt.  Huldah 
went  on  in  the  fashion  of  a  good  old  lady  sure  of  an 
interested  listener,  and  proceeded  with  certain  criti- 
cisms, quite  regardless  of  the  fact  that  Hester's  own 
name  was  adorned  with  an  "  M.D." 

"  I  tell  you,  Hester,  doctors  are  just  as  human  as 
ministers ;  and  they  are  about  the  most  human  of  any 
creatures  going.  Such  an  unsatisfactory,  noncom- 
mittal set  as  they  are,  too,  taken  together !  and  what 
they  tell  outsiders  amounts  to  saying,  that,  if  the 
sick  man  gets  well,  he  will  be  likely  to  live.  We 
have  had  three  consultations  here.  Five  or  six  doc- 
tors arrived  one  day.  They  went  in  and  took  a  sort 
of  an  Inventory  of  all  the  damaged  stock  in  the  poor 
man's  earthly  tabernacle;  then  they  came  out  and 
went  to  the  library,  where  I  could  hear  them,  and 
talked  him  over.  I  always  supposed  he  had  a  splen- 
did constitution  ;  but  when  they  suggested  the  things 
that  might  have  ailed  him,  —  away  back,  you  know, 
'primal  causes,'  as  they  said,  of  this  —  this  'compli- 
cation,' —  why,  I  wondered  he  ever  lived  long  enough 
to  die  this  time.  And  whatever  else  he  had,  or  did 
not  have,  those  ducts  came  in.  Now,  Hester,  tell 
me,  have  we  all  got  such  tricky  things  ?  All  liable 
to  such  disturbances  inside  of  us  ?  and  whatever  are 


294  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

they  for,  anyway  ?  They  seem  so  deep  in,  nobody 
can  reach  them.  His  must  be  in  an  awful  state, 
perfectly  awful !  though  how  or  which  one  it  was  the 
doctors  never  agreed.  Sometimes,  when  I  supposed 
they  were  coming  at  something,  they  would  settle 
back  and  ponder.  After  a  long  silence  one  day,  the 
great  Dr.  Sparks  said,  '  The  chief  trouble  with  Craig 
is  his  assimilation.  If  he  could  eat  a  square  meal, 
and  keep  it  where  it  belonged,  he  might  get  well.' 
Seemed  to  me  I  could  have  said  that  without  gradu- 
ating at  a  college,  or  practising  forty  years." 

Hester  sat  immovable,  possibly  hearing,  perhaps 
heeding,  nothing.  But  aunt  Huldah  must  free  her 
mind.  Having  done  so,  she  exclaimed,  "  Why,  Hes- 
ter !  how  dragged-out  you  do  .look !  Won't  you  go 
and  lie  down  until  breakfast  is  ready  ? " 

"  I  would  rather  sit  here  by  the  fire,"  said  Hester, 
"where  I  can  hear  them  moving  overhead,  and  know 
if  any  thing  happens.  You  go  and  lie  down." 

To  her  great  relief,  aunt  Huldah  went,  returning 
once  to  say,  in  a  way  much  like  Granty,  "I  have 
perfect  faith  in  the  doctors,  Hester :  they  stand  at 
the  head  of  their  profession." 

"Yes,  oh,  yes!"  said  Hester  wearily.  "I  know 
what  doctors  can  do,  and  what  they  cannot." 

The  time  went  slowly  by ;  but  at  last  the  first  rays 
of  daylight  struggled  into  the  room.  The  fire  burned 


THE  LAST  OF  HESTER  FRESCO TT. 


295 


out ;  the  footsteps  above  were  not  as  frequent ;  and, 
when  aunt  Huldah  re-appeared,  Hester  had  gone  to 
the  room  assigned  her.  She  came  down  at  breakfast- 
time  looking  fresher,  in  a  thinner  dress,  with  her 
hair  smoothed  away  from  her  face,  which  was  color- 
less enough  to  startle  aunt  Pepperfield.  Moreover, 
something  in  the  expression  of  Hester's  eyes  set 
her  thoughts  at  work ;  and  it  now  first  occurred 
to  her  that  there  might  be  something  more  than 
mere  friendship  between  Mr.  Craig  and  Hester.  She 
talked  less,  and  went  about  the  house,  anxiously 
awaiting  the  hour  when  the  doctor  should  come. 
When  he  came,  he  brought  with  him  a  clergyman,  — 
a  fact  not  at  all  strange  in  her  opinion.  She  saw 
them  go  directly  to  the  sick  man's  room,  where,  a 
little  later,  Hester  was  summoned.  Into  many  such 
rooms  had  Hester  entered  in  this  last  year ;  but 
never  had  she  carried  into  one  such  a  heavy  heart 
as  she  took  with  her  this  day. 

The  bright  morning  light  fell  on  the  bed,  and  the 
eager  face  turned  toward  her  was  not  as  changed  as 
she  expected.  It  was  only  in  the  shrunken  flesh 
over  the  massive  frame-work  of  bone  that  one  saw 
the  ravages  of  disease.  The  expression  of  that  face 
was  purely  questioning :  it  hardly  needed  that  he 
should  bring  out  in  syllables,  "  Will  —  you  —  keep 
the  —  promise? " 


296  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

When  Hester  answered,  "Yes,"  he  smiled  at  her 
in  great  contentment,  reached  out  his  hand  for  her 
to  hold  while  she  sat  by  the  bed.  The  minister 
stood  quietly  by  the  window.  The  doctor,  moving 
glasses  on  the  table,  prepared  and  gave  Mr.  Craig  a 
spoonful  of  something ;  then  aunt  Pepperfield  was 
sent  for,  coming  with  astonishment  written  in  every 
line  and  wrinkle  of  her  goodly  countenance.  The 
nurse  whispered  to  Hester.  She  arose  and  went  to 
the  other  side  of  the  bed.  Mr.  Craig  put  his  trem- 
bling right  hand  in  hers.  The  clergyman  came 
forward  ;  and,  in  the  presence  of  the  witnesses  there 
assembled,  he  performed  the  marriage-ceremony,  and 
pronounced  Winthrop  Craig  and  Hester  man  and 
wife. 

Afterwards  there  was  the  perfect  calm  which  the 
doctor  insisted  upon.  Aunt  Huldah  staid  only  to 
see  Hester  bend  over  the  dying  man,  and  give  him 
the  kiss  he  had  waited  for ;  then  she  fled  to  a  spot 
where  she  could  weep,  as  if  her  heart  was  breaking, 
with  pity  for  the  woman  in  there,  whose  eyes  were 
dry,  but  had  in  them  a  look  no  tears  could  take  away. 
She  understood  every  thing  now  as  she  could  not 
before;  and,  when  old  Dinah  sought  her  out,  she 
poured  into  her  ears  the  story. 

"  You  know,  Dinah,  he  said  to  me,  after  he  made 
his  will  that  day,  that  he  had  left  all  he  had  to  his 


THE  LAST  OF  HESTER  PRESCOTT.  297 

best  friend.  He  is  rich,  but  he  had  no  near  rela- 
tives. He  did  that  first,  and  then  wanted  this  mar- 
riage, that  Hester  might  inherit  his  property.  She 
is  so  queer,  she  might  have  refused  to  marry  if  she 
had  known  what  he  meant  to  do." 

When,  several  hours  later,  Hester  came  for  some 
ice,  aunt  Huldah,  whose  thoughts  were  in  a  fearful 
turmoil,  assailed  her  with  .this  piece  of  information. 
Hester  stared  at  her  as  if  she  did  not  understand  ; 
but,  standing  there  waiting  for  Dinah  to  bring  the 
ice  to  her,  it  dawned  upon  her  that  this  was  one 
reason,  perhaps  the  reason,  Mr.  Craig  demanded  the 
promise  that  far-away  day  of  his  brief  courtship,  — 
that  strange  day  of  snow  and  whiteness,  cold,  like  all 
the  days  since  that  in  any  way  had  been  connected 
with  their  friendship.  If  she  would  not  let  him, 
living,  care  for  her,  dead,  he  would  guard  her  life 
from  struggles  of  one  kind, — from  all  chance  of 
poverty.  He  showed  himself  in  this.  The  tears 
poured  down  her  cheeks.  It  seemed  cruel  that  with- 
in her  stirred  just  then  the  question,  "Could  there 
not  have  been  some  way  to  make  your  life  and  his 
harmonious,  if  he  were  so  true,  so  stable,  and  yet  so 
undemanding  ? " 

There  were  in  the  next  day  no  more  consultations. 
The  doctor  came  and  went,  whispered  outside  the 
door  with  Hester,  who  had  already  inspired  him  with 


298  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

professional  respect.  The  nurse  saw  half  her  work 
taken  from  her  hands  by  one  even  better  trained  than 
herself ;  and  the  patient,  —  it  was  enough  for  him  to 
Itft  his  eyelids  and  to  see  his  wife,  to  close  them  and 
hold  fast  to  her,  as  if,  the  time  being  short,  death 
alone  should  separate  them. 

And  now,  what  more  is  there  to  write  ?  The 
simple  facts.  Mr.  Craig's  case  was  given  up  as  hope- 
less by  five  doctors,  his  wife  included.  In  consulta- 
tions he  was  pronounced  all  wrong,  from  the  crown  of 
his  head  to  the  sole  of  his  foot,  —  outwardly  a  wreck, 
inwardly  a  complication  !  Worst  of  all,  as  aunt 
Huldah  thought,  there  were  those  "  ducts." 

In  the  face  of  all  this  he  began  to  get  better,  to 
assimilate  (not  a  "  square  meal  "  at  once,  however), 
to  sleep ;  and  his  life  came  slowly,  surely,  creeping 
back.  One  spring  morning  the  truth  was  evident : 
he  would  get  well,  ducts  and  all.  He  began  to  gaze 
after  Hester,  when  she  left  his  side,  as  if  he  were  in 
heaven,  only  he  knew  he  was  on  earth,  and  wickedly 
rejoiced  that  he  was  likely  to  be  for  a  while  longer. 
He  would  laugh  silently,  smiles  running  over  his  pale 
face,  his  eyes  twinkling  with  mischief.  When  Hes- 
ter was  by  him,  he  developed  a  habit  of  turning  his 
face  into  the  pillow,  and  letting  go  her  hand,  as  if  he 
were  ashamed  of  himself.  One  day  when  she  was 
alone  with  him,  he  said,  looking  her  in  the  eyes, 
"  Hester,  I  am  going  to  get  well." 


THE  LAST  OF  HESTER  PRESCOTT. 


299 


"  I  know  it." 

"  It  seems  like  an  awful  fraud."  Then  he  laughed, 
and  she  laughed.  They  were  like  two  ridiculous 
children,  —  this  editor  of  "  The  Phoenix,"  and  this 
woman  with  two  diplomas,  one  of  them  in  Latin. 

"  I  did  not  mean  to,"  he  added  with  real  humility, 
following  a  paroxysm  of  levity.  "  The  doctors  pro- 
nounced me  going;  and,  in  the  natural  course  of 
things,  I  ought  to  have  gone.  I  beg  your  pardon, 
Mrs.  Hester.  Now,  what  are  we  going  to  do  about 
it  ? " 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know,"  she  returned  calmly. 
"  It  is  time  you  had  your  aconite." 

He  meekly  swallowed  the  dose,  and  added  proud- 
ly, "  You  are  my  wife." 

"I  know  it." 

There  seemed  nothing  to  be  made  out  of  her  in 
that  way :  so  he  said,  a  good  deal  of  vigor  going  out 
of  his  voice,  "  You  will  do  what  you  think  is  best. 
I  can  trust  you,  even  if  it  should  be  hard,  if  only  you 
are  sure  you  do  right.  It  would  be  unmanly  to  for- 
get the  way  I  gained  you." 

Hester  shook  up  his  pillows,  brushed  the  hair  off 
his  forehead,  seeing  what  a  handsome  one  it  was. 
Her  lips  twitched  :  she  longed  to  be  vicious,  to  tease 
him  with  nonsense.  She  caught  his  eye,  black  with 
eagerness,  and  said  instead,  "Did  I  not  promise  — 
until  death  ?  " 


300  UNCLE  JACK'S  EXECUTORS. 

"  Yes  :  but  you  thought  it  was  coming." 

"  So  it  is  some  day.  In  the  mean  time  I  shall  not 
tell  lies." 

They  were  very  sentimental  until  Dinah  arrived 
with  beef-broth. 

"  Perhaps  there  will  not  be  any  thing  lost,  and  much 
gained,  in  the  way  things  have  happened,"  he  ventured 
later.  "  At  any  rate,  we  can  do  our  best  to  have  it 
so." 

She  gave  a  laugh  that  made  his  heart  leap,  and 
exclaimed,  "Yes.  It  is  only  another  case  of  'com- 
plication.' The  result  may  be  simple,  and  is  — 
happy." 

While  these  days  slipped  away,  —  and  veritable 
honeymoon  days  they  were,  too,  —  the  family  at 
Merriton  held  not  a  few  unprofessional  consultations 
over  this  last  complication  in  Hester's  own  affairs. 
How  those  good  women  there  talked  and  talked, 
without  ever  coming  one  whit  nearer  an  answer  to 
the  questions  they  propounded !  Aunt  Pepperfield 
wrote  to  them  daily,  and  Hester  occasionally,  when 
she  could  spare  time  from  her  husband. 

"How  can  Hester  go *on  practising  here,  and  Mr. 
Craig  go  on  editing  a  paper  there,  and  they  not  be 
separated  ? "  was  a  question  Granty  put  a  dozen 
times  a  day. 

Dorothy  would  answer,  "Probably  she  will  leave 


THE  LAST  OF  HESTER  PRESCOTT.  301 

practice  here,  and  go  into  it  there,  whefe  she  can  be 
with  him." 

"But  she  canno*  take  her  uncle  Jack's  patients 
with  her." 

"No.  But  the  sick,  like  the  poor,  are  every- 
where." 

Again,  Granty  would  argue  for  an  hour,  to  show 
the  inconvenience  of  a  woman  with  a  profession 
marrying  a  man  with  another,  saying  it  ought  not 
so  to  be.  It  was ;  and,  as  a  remedy,  Dorothy  would 
suggest  a  divorce,  knowing  perfectly  well  how  wicked 
Granty  would  find  that  proposition. 

More  than  once  Dorothy  would  be  awakened  by  a 
voice  in  the  quiet  midnight  hours.  It  issued  from  a 
form  in  shadow  garments  at  the  footboard  of  the 
bed. 

"  What  is  it,  Granty  ?     Can't  you  go  to  sleep  ?  " 

"  I  don't  wish  to  disturb  you,  Dorothy ;  but  Mrs. 
Wickham  says  she  is  all  out  of  pepsin  and  bismuth. 
I  think  Hester  ought  to  know  it,  and  come  home,  or 
do  something." 

"  Let  her  get  what  she  needs  of  Dr.  Thomas." 

"  So  she  can  :  I  did  not  think  of  that.  But  how  is 
this  matter  going  to  end,  Dorothy  ? " 

"  I  have  no  idea." 

"Hester  was  drawn  into  it,  as  you  might  say. 
She  supposed  he  was  going  to  die." 


302  UNCLE  J A  CAT'S  EXECUTORS. 

"But  she  can't  kill  him,  now  he  is  getting  well. 
She  does  not  want  to,  either." 

"  So  you  think  she  cares  something  about  him  ? " 

"  Granty,  Hester  never  would  have  married  a  man 
that  she  did  not  love,  even  if  he  had  but  five  minutes 
to  live.  Now  do  go  back  to  your  rest." 

Like  a  small  but  venerable  spectre,  Granty  would 
vanish,  only  to  re-appear,  and  suggest,  in  a  tone  half 
aggrieved,  half  suspicious,  "  I  always  supposed  it  was 
Marion  that  Mr.  Craig  had  in  his  mind  ;  but  Hester 
is  a  very  good  plain  cook.  What  would  you  think 
would  be  the  best  thing  to  advise,  under  the  circum- 
stances, Dorothy  ? " 

"  It  is  not  of  the  least  use  for  us  to  say.  I  only 
know  that  Hester  has  always  done  as  she  thought 
best,  ever  since  she  came  out  of  her  cradle,  and  she 
probably  will  until  she  goes  into  her  grave.  And 
you  know,  too,  that,  when  she  loves  any  one,  she  will 
cling  to  that  one  while  there  is  any  life  left  in  her. 
She  will  do  it  in  this  case,  I  have  no  doubt.  Now, 
please  go  to  sleep.  You  will  feel  badly  to-morrow,  if 
you  do  not." 

"  Yes,  yes,  dear !  in  a  minute.  Well,  I  hope  it 
will  turn  out  all  right.  She  is  her  uncle  Jack  right 
over.  He  always  took  his  own  way ;  but  it  seemed 
to  be  the  best  for  others,  after  all." 

There  was   a   meditative   silence;   then  just    one 


THE  LAST  OF  HESTER  PJRESCOTT.  303 

more  remark  from  the  good  old  lady,  and  the  voices 
of  the  night  were  stilled.  "  Dorothy,  things  being  as 
they  are  with  Mr.  Craig  and  Hester,  I  should  say 
they  must  do  as  they  can.  I  don't  recollect  any  case 
like  this  in  New  England." 


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Californian. 

"  From  no  recent  traveller  do  we  learn  so  much  concerning  the  people  of 

Northern  Europe  as  from  Mr.  Vincent,  who  was  as  fortunate  in  the  selection  of  the 

countries  which  he  visited  as  in  the  tact  which  distinguishes  his  observations,  and 

who  is  to  be  congratulated  both  as  a  writer  and  as  a  traveller."— R.  H.  STODDARD,  in 

the  N.  Y.  Eve.  Mail. 

"    *    *    *    Full  of  interesting  and  instructive  matter.    *    *    *    The  book  is 

entitled  to  praise." — N.  Y.  Herald. 

"  He  writes  in  an  easy,  natural  style,  with  the  evident  aim  of  telling  in  a 

straightforward  way  just  what  he  saw  and  what  he  thought  of  the  scenes  and  people 

he  encountered." — A".  )".  Tribune. 

"  Intending  travellers  will  find  these  pages  invaluable."— A'.  Y.  Independent. 

CUBAN  SKETCHES.  By  JAMES  STEELE.  Octavo,  cloth  extra, 
about $i  50 

Graphic  studies  of  life  and  character  by  an  old  resident,  who  has  a  keen 
sense  of  humor  and  an  exceptionally  picturesque  style. 


A    000033086    o 
PUBLICATIONS  OF  G.  P.  ru  II\AM 


THE  SWORD  OF  DAMOCLES.  By  ANNA  KATHARINE  GREEN, 
author  of  "  The  Leavenworth  Case  "  and  "A  Strange  Disappeai- 
ance."  Large  I2mo,  cloth  extra,  .  .  .  .  .  $i  50 

"  When  '  The  Leavenworth  Case  '  was  published  everybody  marvelled  be- 
cause we  had  an  unrecognized  novelist  among  us  whose  pen  was  capable  of  holding 
us  by  a  resistless  grip  until  its  finis  was  reached.  We  all  said  it  was  a  man  When 
we  discovered  that  it  was  a  young  woman  we  wondered  more  than  ever.  Its  plot 
was  original,  striking,  and  delightfully  perplexing.  To-day  we  have  another  story 
from  the  same  author,  and  it  is  even  more  vigorous,  original,  and  remarkable  than  the 
first."—  .V.  V.  Home  Journal. 

"  *  *  *  .\n  interesting  story.  It  is  full  of  romantic  and  novel  incidents 
and  lessons."—  N.  Y.  Coml.  Advertiser. 

"  The  story  is  told  with  considerable  power,  and  the  dramatis  person*?  are 
made  to  fill  their  parts  with  success."  —  Montreal  Gazette. 

"  There  are  many  strong  passages,  and  an  intensity  of  life  runs  through  the 
events.  *  *  *  As  a  literary  work,  this  last  achievement  of  Miss  Green's  is  better 
ballanced,  more  ambitious,  and  ampler  than  her  others.  She  is  to  be  praised  for  a 
restrained  and  equable  use  of  language."—  Christian  Register  (Boston). 

"The  plot  is  well  delineated  and  conducted."—  Boston  Commonwealth. 
"  A  very  entertaining  and  readable  book."  —  Boston  Post. 
"  Very  clever  and  extremely  entertaining."  —  Worcester  Spy. 

"  Remarkable  skill  in  construction  is  evinced  by  the  author  of  this  volume. 
After  perusing  the  first  chapter  the  reader  delves  further  and  further  into  its  pages, 
absorbed  by  the  fascinating  interest  of  the  story,  in  the  unravelling  of  which  consum- 
mate tact  is  displayed."  —  St.  Louis  Spectator. 

"  There  is  no  lack  of  striking  situations,  in  fact  every  chapter  is  bristling 
with  startling  incidents  ;  but  withal  there  is  a  quiet,  captivating  tone  which  relieves 
it  from  sensationalism.  The  characters  are  well  drawn,  and  the  descriptive  portions 
show  undoubted  ability.  A  more  delightful  volume  may  hardly  be  found."—  Detroit 
Times. 

'"The  Sword  of  Damocles'  exhibits  unusual  skill  in  weaving  the  .plot.  *  *  * 
The  breathless  current  of  events,  the  fierce  energy,  and  the  sharply  defined  characters 
must  attract  the  general  reader."  —  S.  F.  Eve.  Bulletin. 

"  Its  plot  is  worthy  of  Wilkie  Collins."—  S.  F.  Sunday  Chronicle. 

"It  is  admirably  written,  and,  while  not  as  mysterious  as  its  immediate  pre- 
decessor, will  hold  the  reader's  attention  to  the  end."  —  Chicago  Tribune. 

"  '  The  Sword  of  Damocles  '  is  a  book  of  great  power,  which  far  surpasses 
either  of  its  predecessors  from  the  author's  pen,  and  places  her  high  among  Ameri- 
can writers.  *  *  *  In  the  delineation  of  character  she  has  shown  both  delicacy 
and  vigor."  —  Boston  Congregationalist. 


